Checkmate
by Kamawe Takami
Summary: As a child, Tony made a decision he now regrets but can't take back. Set after "Chained" S02E10, Gibbs/Tony - Father/Son
1. Chapter 1

**I want to thank my awesome Beta Reader TwoSexySombreros - without her, this story wouldn't be publishable xD**

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing... sadly.

**Warning:** Description of violence

* * *

**Chapter One: White has an edge**

Tony was sleeping.

About half an hour ago he'd laid his head on his desk in the bullpen and drifted off. Normally, he would never do that. After a tough case, he would never sleep in a place where he wasn't alone, because falling asleep meant losing control over his actions. In sleep, he was in mercy of his dreams and he couldn't control his reactions to them. Of course, occasionally sleep was simply inevitable, but he always tried to avoid these situations.

But sometimes, it was just too hard to stay awake.

This and the previous days had been very bad.

He'd killed a person.

It wasn't a surprising thing considering his profession, but it felt amiss every damn time he pulled the trigger and ended someone else's life. It seemed easy in movies, and characters in them always looked unmoved by their actions.

Not in a real life, though.

In real life, he could hear every intake of breath of a dying person, before they exhaled for the last time. At nights, he could see terrified eyes widened in realization when they saw that this was the end. It was like they knew he was going to shoot them even before he did. They still fought, though, and didn´t give up, but Tony was faster. He was a trained federal agent, after all.

Passing judgment on other people was a part of his job.

It ended with their deaths, because those people were fighters. They fought for what they thought was important to believe in. They fought for their opinions and for their passions; for those dearest to them.

They fought for their lives.

And Jeffrey was a fighter. Anyone else would say he was just another maniac – another psychopath, but Tony knew better.

His eyelids quivered as a memory flashed before his eyes.

_"I really liked him."_

_"Yeah... Yeah, I can see that."_

_His hands were covered with Jeffrey's blood, even if it couldn't have been seen by the naked eye and Gibbs stood over him, looking unattached like he usually did. When he'd opened the door, Tony almost considered not reacting to his presence. He'd wanted to just sit there, in a blood-splattered car and ignore his boss. But he had to tell somebody that he didn´t like what he'd done. He didn't like it at all and even then, in the car, he knew Jeffrey would later sneak in his dreams and would possibly never leave them… or him._

_It was another dead body. Another one who simply lost their fight, but somehow this felt more personal. Tony knew that he himself had once been on very thin ice, and if not for his choice twenty years ago, he could have become another Jeffrey._

_Who knew how many Jeffreys were out there right now; how many had decided to take the wrong paths in their lives..._

_And how many were Tony?_

Tony subconsciously felt his body stirring. It was very possible he even groaned in his sleep. Surely, everyone near him could hear it. He pictured Kate rolling her eyes. She would have definitely thought he was dreaming about some woman. Although he had a feeling the groan sounded more disturbing, more serious…

Hopefully, Kate wouldn´t notice.

Maybe Gibbs would, but he was sure to be in the director's office or somewhere else. He had lots of more important things to do than to watch Tony in his sleep.

That left McGee, but Probie was still a probie. He wouldn't notice if the groan struck his head...

Oh, another memory was demanding his full attention.

_"I know you don't have any backup, Tony."_

_How did he know?_

_"How do you know that, Jeffrey?"_

_"I thought you might be a cop," Jeffrey paused. "That's why we took that swim in the stream and that's why I crashed the truck… No bugs."_

_He sounded very proud of himself. He couldn't have been praised very often in his life. Maybe he had been never... And when you have no one to praise you, you start doing it by yourself. That Tony knew from experience._

_"There's a reason Lane isn't here, isn't there?" It was more of a statement than a question._

_"You're having naughty thoughts, Tony," Jeffrey said as he leaned closer and put a hand on his shoulder. His breath was hot against Tony's ear as he spoke for the last time._

_"Just so you know… when I said no one ever treated me like you did… I meant that."_

_Tony felt cold metal behind his neck and he tightened his grip on his gun. He knew he treated Jeffrey differently, with more care, and he knew it wasn't because it was his undercover job. He wanted to do it. He needed to do it._

_"I know." That was before a heavy mist clouded his mind._

* * *

Kate watched as Tony stirred in his sleep and she smiled to herself. She had been very worried when they'd learned Jeffrey was a killer and now she could finally relax, knowing everything was how it was supposed to be; that everyone on the team was safe in this building.

McGee was hovering over Tony and seemed ready to do something. Kate threw a crumpled paper at him. "Hey, what are you doing?" she whispered.

"Nothing." McGee looked around. Gibbs was nowhere to be seen.

"So, why the strange behavior?" Kate stood up and went slowly to Tim, who gulped.

"What strange behavior?" He tried to sound innocent but Kate wouldn´t buy it. She went up to him. "You at Tony´s desk… when he's asleep," she said and moved even closer, folding her arms, until she was standing right in front of him. "Planning on something, McGee? Maybe a little prank?"

McGee looked sideways. She got him. "And… what if I said yes?" he asked slowly.

Kate narrowed her eyes. "After everything he went through today?"

McGee sighed. "Yes…" He looked guiltily at her.

Kate smirked mischievously. "Okay, go on," she said cheerfully.

He just stared at her.

"Oh, come on. It's not like he wouldn't do it either to one of us."

"Wouldn't do what?" Gibbs barked at them, appearing, as always, from nowhere, holding a new coffee in his hand. How he had managed to refill his cup in such a short time was beyond everyone.

They both jumped and answered in unison. "Nothing!"

"Smart move," Gibbs remarked as he sat down at his own desk and casted one quick glance over at Tony's sleeping body. He had one hand underneath his face and the other one was covering his head like a shield. The position looked uncomfortable.

"Why's he still here?" he asked the rest of his team.

"Well…" McGee looked over to Kate.

"He was filling out his report and fell asleep," she finished for him.

Gibbs said nothing, his eyes remaining on Tony.

"Eh… should we wake him up?" McGee asked. "Send him home?"

Gibbs looked at the clock. It was six o'clock at night.

"Give him an hour and then wake him," he told them and diverted his attention from his senior field agent and focused on the files that were placed on his desk, instead.

He was glad that Tony was back and was mostly unharmed, if not counting several bruises from his stampede with Jeffrey. With Tony here at his desk, Gibbs could watch over him for the time being and didn't have to worry if his agent was fine and resting properly.

Not that he was really worried about Tony… It was his responsibility to take care of his team and if he sometimes overreacted when Tony was facing any danger that could harm him, no one said a word.

Gibbs once again glanced over at Tony and sighed inaudibly. It had been a very long day.

* * *

_They were sitting in a car when Jeffrey spoke out of blue._

_"My father used to have a cabin like this. He used to bring me and my sister here."_

_Tony winced. Talking about family - parents especially - was never good._

_He forced himself to say something, anything. "Good times?"_

_"Used to beat the crap out of me," Jeffrey answered. That surprised Tony, but he tried not to show it on his face. Jeffrey's records didn't say anything about abuse._

_Jeffrey sighed and continued in a little, shaky voice. "Your parents are supposed to help you, Tony, not hurt you." He paused. "Your father hurt you?"_

_Tony was unprepared for such a question but tried to remain calm and react without lingering. "No, he was too drunk to hurt anyone."_

_A strong feeling washed over him. He couldn't quite place it, because this emotion was new. He had never told anyone about this side of his for-the-world-otherwise-perfect father. Sure, Gibbs knew he was a drinker, but that was the end of it. At least, Tony hoped it was this way. And that his father had never laid a hand on him… That was true, right?_  
_He'd never harmed him physically, almost never laid his eyes on him. No, his father was too great for the world to be wasting his valuable time on someone like Tony. If he had wanted to punish his good-for-nothing son, he'd had other people to do it. Other people who could have afford to lose time with him..._

_Tony winced again. This wasn't time to be remembering all those lovely memories. Not now, not ever._

_"I hate it here," Jeffrey said and brought him back to reality._

_Tony smiled broadly at him. He hoped he got the smile right. "Then let´s get out of here. Make us some money."_

_"Hell, yeah… Let's go make us lots of money," Jeffrey smiled back and Tony started the car._

* * *

Tony opened his eyes. The first thing he noticed was the pain in his arms. He was lying in an awkward position and his whole body felt stiff.

The next thing was that something was tickling his ear.

He swept his hand in that direction but the tickling stopped only for a second before it returned.

"Wake up, sleepyhead."

That sounded like Kate. He rose from his position and blinked several times. He was at his desk in the NCIS headquarters.

Kate ruffled his hair playfully. "I started to think you would never wake up and would sleep through the end of the world," she commented.

He looked up at her. "Is it?"

"What?"

"The end of the world," he specified.

"No."

Tony groaned and looked around. "Too bad." Beside Kate, there was no one else from the team present.

"McGee´s gone home already and Gibbs is somewhere in the building. Not sure where, though," Kate said as if she was reading his thoughts. "And you should go home as well and rest."

Tony grinned at her. "Worried about me?"

She pursed her lips but smiled eventually. "Me? How could I?"

* * *

Tony was standing before his apartment´s door and was fishing the keys in his bag when a small creature jumped up on him from behind.

"Hey, Tony!" the creature shouted cheerfully.

Tony took the child off his back and smiled. "Hey Robin."

"You done catching the bad guys?" Robin asked, continuing to cling to his arm. She was a lovely ten year old daughter of his neighbors and to Tony she seemed very smart for her age.

"Not yet," Tony replied. He finally got to his keys and, while trying not to fall down due to his new burden, he managed to open the door.

"There's lots of them so it takes some time."

"Hmm," Robin seemed to think it through and then smiled again. "I'm sure you´ll manage. You're a hero, right… like Superman, you know?"

Tony smirked. "Why don't I be Batman and you be Robin? We can chase the bad guys together."

"But Robin is a boy!" she exclaimed, outraged.

Tony laughed. "You have the same names, so no one will know." He stepped inside his apartment and kicked off his shoes in the process.

"Do you want some ice cream?" he asked Robin.

She shook her head. "Nah, not today. Ma wanted to watch Doctor Who with me and besides, daddy says I bother you too much anyway."

He ruffled her hair with affection. "That will never happen."

"Yeah, I know," Robin smiled and then leaned in and whispered conspiratorially. "But we need to save our faces, right?"

Tony winked at her. "Of course," he whispered back. "Now go back. It's late, so you shouldn't be here anyway."

"I´m a big girl, I can handle anything and anyone," she proclaimed confidently.

"Sure, sure," Tony said and then shooed her back to her own apartment. He closed the door and made his way to the kitchen.

Robin was very fortunate to have such nice parents. Tony had met them several times, even had a dinner with the whole family. They were the perfect example of what parents were supposed to be.

Tony took a deep breath. He needed a drink.

He found bourbon in a cupboard which he stored there for Gibbs. His boss had been in his apartment only once but had already managed to complain about the lack of alcohol. So Tony had bought bourbon even despite the fact that Gibbs had never showed up again.

At least now it came in handy.

Tony poured himself a glass and studied the pure liquid. In the dim kitchen light, it sparkled like there were little stars floating in it. It reminded him of something mostly forgotten. It reminded him of a snowy night when his whole life had changed from the bottom up.

_He stood in his father's office. Next to him was Paul whom Tony guessed was some sort of secretary for his father. That was what it looked like, at least. He was everywhere where his father appeared and he was doing errands for him all the time. It seemed like Paul's life revolved around his work for Tony's father._

_Tony didn't need to look up to see the hatred in Paul's eyes, which was definitely being aimed at him. He didn't know what he had done to this man, but since the first day they'd met, Paul had made it clear that he didn't like Tony – hated him, even._  
_Tony wouldn´t normally mind; he was used to receive the similar kind of hatred from his father, but from Paul… that was bad, because Paul was the one responsible for Tony´s punishments. It was him who always decided what sort of punishment was equal for Tony's childish 'crimes'._

_Tony finally looked up at his father, only to see him gazing over to nowhere. He was holding a glass of a pure, golden liquid. Alcohol. It was casting dancing lights on his father's frowned face. Tony guessed it was bourbon. He learned various sorts of alcoholic drinks from the way his father handled them. Bourbon, he was holding very gently and was sipping it slowly, like he wanted to savor the taste._

_Tony grimaced and turned his attention to Paul. He regretted it immediately when Paul glanced back at him, a cruel expression on his face. And Tony knew that this time it was going to be very, very bad._

_His father started speaking about what Tony had done wrong this time to deserve a new punishment. Tony stopped listening after the first sentence. It was always the same. His father was an expert on finding mistakes on his own son and couldn't have been generally bothered by assuring they would never occur again, so he handed the right to do so to Paul, who was more than willing. Tony gave up trying to understand what was wrong with him – all of them – a long time ago._

_Now, he silently received his punishment and everyone's lives went on._

_However, today, he felt very anxious for no obvious reason. He didn't know why, but looking in Paul´s eyes for a brief moment, he had a feeling he would find out very soon._

Tony slammed the glass down, spilling half of the content out, and rubbed his eyes with his other hand. The undercover operation was supposed to go smoothly but no, Jeffrey had had to start talking about fathers.

Tony looked at the bourbon again and felt suddenly nauseous. He quickly poured it all out into the sink and went to living room so he couldn't smell it. He sat on his couch and stared at nothing in particular.

He felt miserable, but oddly enough very active as well. He glanced at the clock. It was after eight so there was no chance he would be able to fall asleep. He could still watch a movie or just click through the channels on television, but he couldn't bring himself to move.

Finally he made up his mind and reached for his cell phone, dialing a number. He waited a heartbeat before a familiar voice responded.

"Hey, Tony! Haven't heard from you for a while."

Tony paused, gathering his thoughts. "Well, yeah… Sorry, been busy," he finally replied.

The man on the other end of the line seemed concerned. "Kid, are ya alright?"

Tony chuckled. "You realize I'm a grown man and you still call me kid?"

"What can I say? Habit," the man laughed. "So what is it? You really fine?"

"Yeah, Steve," Tony said. "I just wanted to know how you're doing."

"Same old, same old. Lynette's started playing piano and my wife's still the same… You know her, so I bet you get the picture. She's worried about you and me, and I would guess about the rest of the police world too, but, well, it's kinda sweet."

Tony smiled. He felt better just talking over the phone to this man.

"Kid, you sure you're fine?" Steve asked again, concern apparent in his voice.

Tony sighed. "Yeah, no… I don´t know, maybe. I wasn't but now I am and I'm sure it's gonna be fine. Think I just need some sleep." He surprised even himself with his honesty.

"Okay, Tony, but if you need anything just call me, yeah?" Steve said.

"Sure," Tony replied. He doubted that if anything happened he would bother Steve, but he didn't need to know that.

"Right…" Steve sighed.

"Say hello to Carol and Lynette… and thanks for everything," Tony said.

Steve chuckled. "Kid, you don't have anything to thank me for."

Tony smiled. "I think we'll never agree on this matter."

"We can't have everything, now, can we?" He paused and then added, "Goodnight, kid."

"Goodnight." Tony ended the call and resigned himself to his bed.

* * *

_He left his father´s office and headed to his room, Paul right behind him. Tony took one step at a time and tried not to go either too fast or too slow. He didn't want to get to his room because that meant facing Paul all alone. Although, it wasn't abnormal and the punishments always took place in his room, he could sense that tonight was different. How, he didn't know yet but he feared the time when he'd find it out. _

_A shiver ran through his body as he entered his room. He could hear Paul's quickened breathing and he knew that whatever was holding him together would vanish the moment the door closed. Tonight would not be about the normal kinds of his punishment. He would not be forced to stand a whole night without sleep in a corner and hold a pile of books in raised hands. He would not have to write 'till morning what he had done wrong. _

_No, tonight would be different._

_Tony turned around when he heard the door being locked and was immediately backhanded and slammed into the wardrobe. His head made a nasty crack sound and he lost vision for a moment._

_When he regained it again, Paul was screaming directly in his face, little droplets of spits hitting Tony._

_"You little piece of **! I've worked for this company and your father for ten years now! Ten years!" He grabbed Tony by the shoulders and shook him, slamming him again into the wardrobe with such force that Tony was certain he could destroy the massive wood using only his head. "I sacrificed my marriage to this job; for my career and what do you think I get in return?"_

_He grabbed Tony's body and pushed him to the floor. Tony landed on his left arm and it snapped. He cried out in pain but didn't have the time to get away. Paul hauled him up by his hair and slapped him hard across the face, sending him to the floor again. "Ten years!" he screamed repeatedly, beating him._

_Tony tried to crawl away and fight back but the man was bigger and stronger than him. Through the haze he could make out few sentences and understood immediately._

_"I work so hard… wanted to prove myself to him… wanted to take over the company when… was always competent and loyal… worked so hard… ten **ing years! I'm not the heir, he says… I don't have his blood, he says… not his **ing son, he says!"_

_He stopped suddenly and looked directly into Tony's eyes. "He doesn't even like you," he whispered and Tony wanted to stop existing. It would be so much simpler that way, if he only stopped existing…_

_"He hates you, you know?" Paul said in a low, cold voice. "Did you know he blamed you for her death?"_

_Tony gulped. Yes, he was well aware of that._

_"He always says how great of a son I would be and that I would make him proud… not like you… I would never be a nuisance to him."_

_Tony felt tears running down his cheeks. He would give everything for Paul's words not to be true, but he knew there was no lie hidden in them. His father blamed him for mother's death. His father hated him and thought him a nuisance. His father would be happier with this sadistic man as his own son and heir... but he would never replace Tony, because his father was a man of principles._

_He was DiNozzo and DiNozzos didn't take the easier paths in life._

_Paul punched him again and slammed his body harder into the wooden floor. His father had to have heard the noise, right? Tony prayed for someone, anyone, to come in and to help him._

_No one came._

_At some point, he stopped feeling the pain and his mind shut down completely._

* * *

Tony woke up in an instant and rushed to the bathroom. The urge to vomit was so strong and yet his body refused to relieve him from the pain that was building inside him. He shook violently and sank helplessly to his knees, hitting the cold floor. He rested his head against the tiles.

What the hell was wrong with him?

Why did he have to torture himself like this?

Tony closed his eyes. What was in past should stay there and it was absolutely useless to relive those things.

It never made a difference.

* * *

**Please, let me know how you liked the first chapter :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you everyone for your awesome reviews and for adding this story to Favorites. Also, huge thanks to TwoSexySombreros - you're the best! (not that I know everyone... but still! xD)**

* * *

**Chapter Two: Control over the pace and direction**

It had been five months since his release from prison and Chris was spending his free day in a café.

He tried to flirt with the hot blonde waitress with long legs but she was apparently dumb or just oblivious because she didn't even smile back at him and brushed off all his efforts to start a conversation with her.

"Stupid b**," he murmured and sipped from his coffee. He grimaced immediately once the hot liquid touched his lips. This was the worst coffee he'd ever had and he had been served in prison, for f*'s sake!

The day had just begun and he already wanted it to end.

Suddenly, his cell phone started ringing.

"Yeah?" he answered.

"Hey, Chris, buddy," someone shouted much too cheerfully from the other line. "How're ya doin'?"

Chris snickered. "Since it's been just five months of freedom away from that coop? What'd ya think?"

"At least you recognized me…" the other guy sighed.

"What'd you want, Ricky?"

"Well, I think today's your birthday, ain't it? So, I have a nice little surprise for ya." Chris could even hear Ricky grinning maniacally.

"Spit it out," he demanded. He wasn't up for games.

"Oh, come on, bro!" Ricky cried out, offended. "You hear me after all those years and you don't even wanna know how I am or what I'm doin'?"

"Here, you have your answer. So many f*ing years and you decide to call now." Chris raised his voice and the blonde waitress glared daggers at him. He licked his lips obscenely and winked at her. She grimaced and turned away. "And don't call me bro or I swear I'll go find you and rip your f*ing throat out."

"Come on! I don't remember you being such a sadist!" Ricky exclaimed loudly. "And, eh… well, yeah, you're probably right…" he admitted, "I should have called ya." He then paused for a moment before continuing. "Don't ya at least wanna know how I got your number?" he asked.

"No," Chris answered shortly. He was getting angrier each minute he was stuck talking to this moron. "And so many years in there do that to you. No time for pleasantries."

"Fine, fine," Ricky sighed again. "Have it your way, then…"

"So?" Chris prompted after a minute of silence.

"What?" Ricky sounded confused.

"What's the surprise?" Chris snapped. Seriously, how could someone be this stupid?

"Right, right, sorry… So, I work at that shop, ya know? The one where the old wife of Steve Ward comes shopping. And suddenly I hear her sayin' some crap stories about this fed." Rick apparently tried to mimic the woman, because he continued in a high-pitched voice. "That he's such a nice boy, and that he has some problems or somethin'… so that her husband went to Washington to see him!"

Chris couldn't pinpoint the great news. "And?" he asked impatiently.

"And what?" Ricky at least started to talk normally. "It means that the troubled agent is our little Anthony!"

Chris was silent for a while. Then he waved a hand at the stupid waitress. She hesitated but finally approached him. "Yes?" she asked.

Chris gave her one of his biggest smiles and pointed at the coffee on his table. "Bring me red wine, today is too special to drink this crap."

* * *

"Hola, mis amigos!"

Gibbs looked up from the papers he was studying in time to see DiNozzo sitting down behind his own desk, looking… rather cheerful and happy.

Gibbs narrowed his eyes. He didn't like when Tony was behaving like this. In fact, Tony was behaving perfectly like every other normal day, but Gibbs knew better.

It was too perfect.

From the years of experience, he'd learned how to differ what Tony truly felt and what he wanted everyone else to think he felt. The true emotions were masterfully hidden behind this cheerful cover and that pissed Gibbs off. It felt like something pierced his heart every damn time. Tony showed him just how much he didn't trust any of them with his true feelings. Kate and McGee he could understand…

Only, why did Tony feel the need to hide his true emotions from Gibbs?

This all flashed across his mind in less than a second. He should talk to him. He should make him talk. Gibbs was a master in forcing people to confess to him. He was able to make them do whatever he wanted.

He could do that.

Gibbs looked at Tony.

Why was it so hard with this one?

"You're late, DiNozzo," he growled, more angry at himself than at his agent.

Tony checked the clock. "One minute. Really? You count that?" he asked incredulously. Gibbs raised his eyebrow and Tony smirked. "Right, do I even need to ask? Of course you count it."

He looked really tired. Gibbs tried not to study the shadows under his eyes, but they remained there nonetheless, screaming at him to do something about them – to help. He thought about it. Maybe he would be able to make Tony talk if he tried…

Yeah, he just needed him somewhere quiet and he would talk. Gibbs needed to stop treating him differently. DiNozzo was his agent and he had to be in a right state of mind or he could endanger the whole team in the field.

Gibbs made up his mind.

"DiNozzo, my-" he started but was cut off by another man's voice.

"Tony, kid!"

Tony looked up and his eyes widened in a genuine surprise. "Steve?"

Half of the bull pen stopped working, including Kate and McGee, and stared as Tony jumped up from his chair and hugged the new visitor. He was a tall and well-built man in his late fifties. He seemed like an easy-going type who could be, on the other hand, really frightening if the situation called for it.

For an unknown reason, Gibbs didn't like the familiarity with which Tony treated the guy. Suddenly, Tony looked happy and it was not just an act.

He was happy.

And just because of this Steve guy.

Gibbs stood up and went to them. He tried to put on a mask of a polite curiosity but judging by the looks Kate and McGee were giving him, it came out more like he was considering the best way to kill the new prey.

When he reached them, Tony was asking Steve why he was there.

Gibbs spoke up before the guy could answer. "DiNozzo, can you at least pretend you're working?"

Tony ignored the remark and smiled at him brightly, which took Gibbs by surprise. He was left speechless and if someone would want him to talk, he'd fail miserably.

"Boss, this is Steve Ward. He works at a police department in New York and is a very good friend of mine." Tony turned to Steve. "Steve, this is my boss, Jethro Gibbs. Over there," he pointed at Kate and McGee, who were peeking at them curiously, "are my colleagues Kate Todd and Tim McGee."

The two addressed stood up and joined the little circle. Steve greeted them warmly but didn't take his eyes of Gibbs. "So, you're my boy's boss. I heard so much about you. It's nice to meet you." Steve offered his hand. Gibbs hesitated but finally shook it.

_His boy? What the hell?  
_  
Tony turned to Steve. "So what brings you here?" he asked again.

Steve forced a smile. "Well, I was in the city and told myself I hadn't seen you in a long time, so… here I am." He spread out his arms.

Tony eyed him warily. "Sure," he replied simply.

Gibbs watched his senior agent. He was tense. There was more to the story.

"So, Mr. Ward, how do you know Tony?" Kate broke the silence that had set in.

Gibbs never let his eyes of his agent and Ward. Tony paled visibly all of a sudden, but Steve remained calm. "Why, he was a little brat when I first met him but you know, he kind of got to my heart," he said and smirked.

He put his hand on Tony's shoulder and Gibbs wanted to pull out his gun and shoot it off.

Kate smiled and McGee rolled his eyes. "He's like an irritating pet that you start liking at some point, right?"

Tony relaxed and punched Tim in the arm. "Hey! I'm not a pet!"

McGee grinned at him. "I thought you would deny the irritating part."

Tony scowled and turned to Steve. "Eh… I think I have some work to do," he glanced at Gibbs, "I'll give you address of my apartment and you can wait there for me later?"

"Yeah, sure," Steve replied.

Tony went to his desk, scribbled the address on a piece of paper and gave it to Steve, together with his keys, telling him briefly how to get there.

Gibbs started to feel uneasy. 'Till now he had been the only one who held keys from Tony's apartment although maybe he was just being naïve. Of course it couldn't be just him who had access to the apartment. Gibbs wasn't that special to be the only one who was allowed into Tony's home.

He watched Tony hug Steve again.

"See ya, kid," Steve said and went to the elevator.

Kate snorted. "Kid?" she teased.

"Yes, Kate," Tony replied. "I was a kid once, you know?"

Kate smiled. "I thought you still were."

Tony stuck out his tongue at her and grimaced.

"DiNozzo!" Gibbs barked. "Work. Now."

"On it, boss!" Tony rushed to his desk and Kate grinned smugly.

Gibbs glared at her. "Todd!"

"Yes, Gibbs!"

* * *

Steve allowed himself into Tony's apartment.

He briefly wandered around the place. He'd never been here before and was always wondering how Tony had furnished it. On the contrary of what everyone else would think, Tony's home looked simple and neat. Steve noticed immediately that the apartment was full of contrasts.

His first stop was in the kitchen. The whole kitchen seemed very elegant and modern. Yet, on the table was placed a huge and brightly pink ceramic vase that Lynette had made at school when she'd been eight years old. She gave it to Tony on his birthday and despite the fact that the thing was big, pink and, let's face it, ugly, he had kept it.

Steve smirked and went on in his little investigation. His wife had ordered him to find out if Tony was eating properly. He went through the fridge and cupboards, frowning. He found some leftovers, almost empty bottle of bourbon and a tomato. His wife would kick Tony's a** if she found out.

He sighed. They would need to have the look-after-yourself conversation all over again.

He took the bottle of bourbon and studied it critically, adding it mentally on his list of things he wanted to ask Tony about.

He then ordered a pizza over the phone and went to the living room. Again, he was surprised by the new television contrasting to the old couch that had left its better days long behind it. He eyed the couch warily before he sat down on it.

It was incredible how comfortable the piece of furniture was. It reminded him not to judge something just by the looks of it.

He wondered how to kill the time before Tony came home and looked around. In the corner of the room were tons of DVDs and CDs. Under the unorganized and chaotic piles laid something that caught his eye.

He stood up and went to grab it. He placed it on the coffee table, really smiling for the first time since he'd come through the door.

* * *

"Gibbs!"

The Forensic specialist jumped him right after he entered her lab.

"Yes, Abby?"

"A little bird told me Tony had a visitor. Who was he? Who was he?" Abby urged and pouted. "That he's a friend isn't a good enough explanation for me. I need to know more!"

"I don't know, Abbs," Gibbs said irritably. Why was everyone suddenly so obsessed with that strange guy?

Alright, Abby was the first that had actually asked him about it, but still... People had been giving him curious looks all day like he should know the man; like he should know every damn thing that happened in DiNozzo's personal life.

And Tony wasn't helping with all the secretiveness. When Kate had wanted to ask him further questions on that subject, he'd either smiled and brushed it off or hadn't told anything at all.

"You don't know or you don't want to tell me?" Abby pressed.

"I don't know!" he snapped. "Focus on more important things."

She frowned at him but then saluted with a big smile. "Yessir."

She turned on her heel and waited for Gibbs to give her the small plastic bags he was holding.

He threw them on the table unceremoniously. An object in one of them caught her eye. She took the bag in her hand and looked at it closely. There, inside the plastic wrapping rested a knife.

She glanced questioningly at Gibbs.

"Jeffrey White's knife," he explained. "The usual procedure; look over it, register all the evidence and keep it before the guy from storage takes it."

"Gibbs! I know my work, you don't need to explain it to me!" she exclaimed.

He smiled lightly. "Seemed to me like you wasn't sure what to do."

She rolled her eyes. "No, it's just… you know…" She pointed at the knife, still remaining in the bag in her hand. "This thing almost killed our Tony…"

Gibbs sighed. "You are exaggerating."

"I'm not!" she said, outraged. "How can you tell me that? That bastard could have killed him! Do you honestly think I'm exaggerating?"

Gibbs acknowledged his hadn't been the best choice of words and looked Abby directly in the eyes. He didn't want to admit it aloud, that simply wasn't his style, but he could count on her that she would understand without mindless talking.

She always did.

Abby's angry expression softened and she nodded. "Fine," she said, "Shutting up."

She smiled at him and he, returning the smile, made his way out of the lab.

When reaching the elevator, he heard her calling. "But rest assured I'll find out the truth about our stranger on my own, sir!"

Gibbs sighed and rolled his eyes as a loud music started off and reached his ears from all the way down the hall.

* * *

Tony was driving his car back into the apartment.

On the way he had stopped at the grocery and bought some vegetables, fruit and whatever he thought a normal person would consider edible food. He was sure Steve had been looking through his kitchen to find out how healthy he was eating. Either because Carol had ordered him to do so or because he simply could not help himself with the need to investigate every new surrounding.

Tony smirked. He didn't doubt that Steve had lost every bit of hope after spending only one minute in his kitchen.

What could have he possibly found there?

Tony vaguely remembered a tomato, which had once been three tomatoes and mozzarella. His attempt to create a salad… before he realized he actually needed more than just tomatoes and cheese.

That day, he had ordered a pizza and enriched it with his former salad ingredients.

One tomato had remained and kept him company. It was a wonder it still looked good and hadn't rotted there.

Tony frowned, turning left. What if it actually had rotted already and it just couldn't be seen from the outside? He grimaced. Better not to think about it. He stopped at the traffic lights and waited for it to turn green.

What else would Steve find?

Tony looked over to his left. Next to him waiting was a pretty brunette driving in a red car. He gave her his best smile and winked. She blushed and smiled shyly back.

Let's see, some leftovers and…

Oh.

Well, sh**.

Tony accelerated when the green light appeared and went straight ahead.

Bourbon. Steve had to have found that damn bourbon.

Why had he left it there? What the hell had he been thinking?

Tony sighed and turned left for the last time. He could see his apartment building and he aimed slowly for the car park. Fair enough, he couldn't have known that Steve would rush here, but still… Tony had called him, surely sounding like a pathetic child craving for some nice words, and knowing Steve, Tony should have assumed he would abandon all his plans and try to get here as fast as was humanly possible.

Tony inhaled deeply and parked the car. He sat there for a while.

What was he going to do? At work, he made up his mind to assure Steve that nothing was wrong but now with the bourbon, it was almost impossible that the man would believe him.

Damn. This was all so wrong. Steve didn't know everything. He knew the end of the story but didn't know the beginning. He didn't know the reason…

More importantly, he didn't need to know and Tony never gave him an excuse to ask.

They had never talked about it.

What if he would want to talk now?

Tony shuddered involuntary. No, he couldn't do that.

No one should know. It was such an immature and pathetic reason. He was embarrassed just by thinking about it. What would Steve say?

What would anyone say?

It was stupid, reckless, gratuitous, and most importantly, for nothing.

* * *

_Tony was lying in the hospital bed. He'd woken up about two hours ago and since then no one had been able to tell him how he'd got there. A doctor had visited him once, telling him in what way was every part of his body damaged. Apparently, he had a concussion from hitting his head against something hard, a pair of cracked ribs, a broken left arm and lots of bruises._

_Then he'd left and no one came in again._

Tony spent the whole day musing about what had happened and gazing over through the hospital window. From outside, it was frosted from the cold of the long winter days.

The glass seemed like a divider. 

_It divided his whole life and the outside world. His life was, in its own way, warm. In his life was the prospect of a financially secured future. Everyone who mattered would know his name and would obey him. Few years and he would surpass his father. _

_Outside was cold._

Outside anything could happen and there was no guaranteed future.

Tony could see the snowy scenery through the window as it sparkled brilliantly.

Outside was so beautiful...

It was almost midnight and Tony was considering at least a short nap when the door to his room opened. On threshold stood a person whom Tony would consider the last to visit him.

His father.

"Junior," the man greeted his son.

"Hey, dad," Tony replied. He was not up for proper behavior. He wanted to know what exactly had happened.

His father was quiet for a while, looking somewhere over Tony's shoulder, before he finally spoke up. "Paul told me what happened... It was a rather unfortunate action and he apologized for his… nervous breakdown... He assured me it would never happen again."

Tony blinked several times. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. His father didn't like him very much but to let this pass… "How can you… he- he could have killed me," he whispered desperately.

"Don't exaggerate it, son," his father snapped and Tony's heart was nearly ripped apart. "Paul is a decent young man and he would never risk his career by doing something this stupid. He had been stressed lately by the amount of work and he… snapped. It was just unlucky that you were with him at that time. Besides, he is too valuable to the company, so you better not tell anyone about this… accident. I need him as my secretary."

Tony stared at the man before him.

He wanted to scream at his father, to throw things at him, to make him think about what he was saying and to make him understand how he felt.

He did none of those things.

"You should be released in less than a week," his father continued, ignorant of the inner struggle inside his son. "I'll send someone to pick you up."

Tony was quiet.

His father raised an eyebrow. "Don't expect me to repeat it," he said impatiently.

"Yes, father," Tony replied automatically.

"Good, now rest." Senior turned around and exited through the door, never looking back.

Tony laid his head back down on the soft pillow. His mind was racing and so many emotions were mingling inside him.

Sadness, loneliness, disappointment, bitterness…

His body was like a jungle full of wild emotions. He laid there staring at the ceiling, thinking of every one of those feelings when, finally, one of them won over the others.

It dispersed all the other unnecessary feelings and embraced his whole mind.

It was anger.

And Tony knew, then and there, that he was going to do something very stupid in the near future. Something he would likely regret later. He didn't care now, though. 

_He looked outside of the window deep into the dark night._

_If his father wasn't able to let Tony go, even despite the hatred, he obviously felt toward him, he'd definitely do it after the disgrace Tony would bring on the name DiNozzo._

He felt peace in his mind just by thinking about it. The feeling was so warm and inviting, he wanted to never let it go.

_His father would be angry and hurt and Tony would watch._

* * *

**Again, please let me know what you think :) Also, I'll be away for a week, so no update till then, sorry, but I'll try my best to hurry after that :D**


	3. Chapter 3

**1) I apologize deeply for the delay.**

**2) Huge thanks to TwoSexySombreros again and to you all, who added this story to Favorites, Alerts or made time to review it :)**

* * *

**Chapter Three: End of the Opening**

Ricky stopped himself a cab and got into it, giving the address of his apartment to the driver. He got comfortable in the backseat and gazed over through the window.

Chris had been right – he'd never contacted him. But really, how could he? He was glad he'd been given a two year suspended sentence. If not for his mother, he would have ended up rotting in a prison as well. And it wouldn't look good if he'd stayed in contact with a criminal…

But still, he'd called to tell him the news, so he could have been given credit for that, at least!

Ricky watched the buildings and streets passing him by and thought about the call. Chris had sounded, well, exactly like he'd spent years behind cell bars. It was shame it had all ended up like this. Not that Chris had ever been a gentleman, but he sure could have been charming if he'd wanted to.

Anthony had taken it away. They all had decided that it was his fault. He'd broken up their family.

Ricky pulled out his cellphone. At the end of their conversation, Chris had told him to get in touch with their friends and bring them to Washington. That, Ricky could do. He wanted to help and to somehow return all the favors Chris had done him when they were kids.

He dialed one number he had still saved. After a minute of ringing, someone picked it up. "Yes?"

Ricky smiled at the familiar voice. "Hey Tom! How're ya doin'?"

* * *

Tony had been trying to find his keys from the apartment before he realized he didn't have them. He'd given them to Steve. Sighing, he knocked at his own door. It took a while but finally, it opened and in the doorway stood one smiling Steve.

"Hey kid, you're late."

Tony shrugged. "Well, I went to buy some groceries." He raised the bags in his hand, so Steve could see them closely. "Like I do every other day, you know," he tried. "On the way home I stop at the shop to buy eh… vegetables and fruit and, y'know… the- the green, healthy stuff… what's it called?"

Steve chuckled and let him in. "Come on in. I ordered pizza."

"Oh, thank God." Tony grinned and rushed to the kitchen, forgetting the bags in a hallway. He didn't hesitate for a second, grabbed the pizza box and sat down with it on the couch in the living room.

Steve rolled his eyes and sat beside him. He noticed Tony happily eyeing the chessboard that was placed on a coffee table before him. Steve praised himself mentally for that idea. Tony liked talking while playing and always forgot to consider what he'd want to say before he opened his mouth.

"Don't eat it all," Steve scolded him when it didn't look like Tony would give up the pizza from his hold any time soon.

"Alright, alright," Tony pouted but offered him a slice, starting to munch on his own.

"You know, I never understood why everyone thought that this wasn't a healthy food," Tony commented with a full mouth. "It has peppers in it, tomatoes, corn, and lots of other colorful things." He looked at the pepperoni pizza in his hand and frowned. "Okay, maybe not this one but others certainly do," he added.

"I can't believe you're still alive with your eating habits," Steve said.

Tony looked at him. "Luck?"

Steve laughed. "Could be."

_It was a pure luck no one had spotted him. Tony had never realized that the house was so alive in the night. He'd almost collided with their butler and had to hide quickly once before the cook spotted him._

_He'd been lucky._

_If anyone caught him, they would surely report him to his father and that was… not good. Not for now, anyway._

_Tony made his way through the snow covered path. He needed to get to his school. He knew they would be there. Everyone knew it and didn't do a thing to prevent it._

_They were afraid._

_He could see little white puffs of air coming out from his mouth and he shivered from the cold. He tightened the grip on his jacket and determinedly continued on his way though, only slightly increasing his pace._

_It had been two weeks since his release from the hospital and nothing changed whatsoever. His father behaved liked nothing had happened and no one in the house had said a word. Tony hadn't seen Paul yet, but he didn't doubt it was only a matter of time._

_He anticipated bumping into him every time he turned a corner and it was slowly getting on his nerves._

_He hoped tonight would relieve him from the uneasiness._

_He reached the building in less than an hour. His body was now constantly shivering and he was frozen to the bone. Not stopping, he headed straight to the gym. He was getting more and more anxious with every step he made but that didn't stop him._

_Tony remembered his father's face when he was telling him all those things in the hospital. The expression was so neutral, so passive. He had it reserved solely for the business meetings and for his son._

_He quickened the pace, turning around the corner._

_There it was. He stood before the entrance and now only the gym door divided him from the outside world. This was his last chance to turn back, to stay where he was. To stay here with his father and Paul and all those things that came with them…_

_He took a deep breath and opened the door easily. They were not locked. The outside world didn't need them locked._

* * *

Gibbs had had enough.

Today had been a very long day and on top of that, they hadn't done anything but paperwork. He was forced to review all those stupid files that had piled up on his desk and had to fill out a report summarizing all their cases in the last month so he could hand it over to the director. Morrow would surely sign it without so much as looking at it and would send it to the archives, where everything unimportant was kept. There, it would slowly rotten and no one would care.

Still, it was procedure, which they – he – had to undertake every damn month.

He sighed and poured himself a glass of bourbon, sitting down on a stool in his basement.

He looked over at the unfinished boat. He cringed, his mind begging him to go over there and lose himself in the sanding. It was screaming at him to reach for the sander and just aimlessly brush it over the beautiful wood again and again.

He took a swig from the glass and kept sitting on the spot.

He was frustrated and wasn't even sure why, which was only adding to the feeling.

He was accusing the paperwork, DiNozzo and that Steve guy.

Paperwork because he simply hated it.

DiNozzo because he was DiNozzo and couldn't just come up to him and talk. Sure, Gibbs wasn't very talkative but he could still listen…

And Ward because…

Gibbs sipped from the glass and sighed with satisfaction as the alcohol burned the back of his throat.

That was it. He wasn't even sure why he didn't like the guy. The man seemed like a good and honest person and yet, something about him irritated Gibbs.

He was too friendly, too easy with all the… touching. And what was it with the hugs anyway?

DiNozzo had hugged him. Twice. He didn't do that with anyone except for Abby, maybe, but that was Abby, so most of the time it was from her initiative. She was the type to jump on people whenever and wherever she wanted.

Not Tony, though. He guarded his feelings carefully.

Just like Gibbs did…

He sighed and drank again. Abandoning his seat, he took the sander and went to his boat.

* * *

Steve sat himself on the opposite side of the board, bringing a kitchen chair and sitting down on it. "Black or white?" he asked.

Tony watched the chess pieces and thought about Jeffrey. "White," he answered.

"Start, then." Steve waved a hand in the direction of the board.

Tony took a pawn without hesitation and brought it forward. Steve pulled out exactly the same pawn and met Tony's at the center.

Tony smiled at that. "Typical," he remarked.

Steve raised an eyebrow.

"You always make that move," Tony clarified. "Every time we play, your first move is mirroring mine, only after that you do something unexpected."

"Isn't that the point of the whole game? To do something that your opponent isn't expecting?" Steve smirked and watched as Tony slid another pawn forward.

"Maybe," Tony said, "but it's not the best strategy."

Steve mirrored his move again.

"You see," Tony continued. "I played with our forensic specialist, Abby, a couple of times. She does the same thing – tries to be unpredictable. The first time she almost got me, but when you play with her again you start seeing a pattern in her style." Tony moved out his knight. "She does what she thinks you wouldn't expect."

"Hmm…" Steve pulled out another pawn, putting it in jeopardy. Tony ignored it and moved with his knight again. "Why don't you play with Agent Todd or McGee?"

Steve pulled out his knight as well and Tony frowned, studying the board. "Nah, they're much too predictable," he said. He then smiled and brought another pawn forward. Doing so, he cleared the way for his bishop. "Don't take me wrong, Probie's smart. In chess, though, you need more than that. You need to read your opponent's mind and you have to understand the reasons of their moves. They have to think they got you and have you cornered before you can strike."

Steve pulled out his queen. "What about your boss?"

"Gibbs?" Tony brought his bishop forward. "I didn't ask him to play with me."

Steve made another move with his queen. "Why?"

"Dunno," Tony answered honestly and pulled out another pawn. The pace of the game was becoming faster with each move. Neither of them hesitated as they were confidently moving with the chess pieces over the board. "He doesn't exactly seem like the chess type."

Steve glanced at Tony. He seemed more relaxed. Only a little longer and he would relax completely.

Then they could talk.

"You don't, either," he said.

Tony chuckled. "I have a feeling I should be offended." His bishop was now in jeopardy and Steve wanted to take it with his queen. Tony stopped him. "Don't," he warned. "If you do that, I'll take the queen."

Steve looked at the board closely. Tony was right – he completely forgot about the white knight.

Making other move, he smiled at Tony. "You shouldn't tell me that."

Tony grinned. "What would be the fun in it?"

_The door closed behind him with a loud thud that echoed throughout, colliding into the wall and returning back to him with a crushing intensity. Thy gym would normally be deserted at night if not for the six people that were now standing in the center of it._

_They all looked up at once and went quiet._

_A strong urge to run away washed over Tony but he chased it away with an image of his father in the mind. He raised his chin defiantly and waited._

_Really, what would be the fun in it to run away now, after everything he went through to get here?_

_A boy separated from the group and came to stand before him. Tony looked him over. He seemed to be about eighteen years old, maybe more. Still, Tony decided to think of him as a boy. He didn't like the thought of being threatened by another adult._

_Yeah, this was just another kid. That, Tony could deal with._

_"Hey," he greeted. "Nice night, isn't it?"_

_The boy snorted and the others joined him. Okay, so this one was the 'boss' here._

_"What the hell do you think you're doing here?" the kid asked threateningly._

_"Going for a walk," Tony replied and earned himself a punch in the face. He stumbled backwards and the other kids laughed loudly._

_He looked up angrily._

_Even Paul could hit harder._

_"Bad answer, I guess," he smirked._

_The boy narrowed his eyes. He was tall and looked like he had grown up on the street._

_Tony knew better._

_"I came to join you, obviously," he said and then slowly added, watching the boy's reaction, "Christopher."_

_The boy stepped closer and two other kids that Tony knew by sight joined him. "Say it again," he hissed dangerously._

_Somewhere in the back of his mind, where he wasn't hyped up with adrenalin, he realized his behavior was probably quite self-destructive._

_Despite that, he smiled broadly. "You heard me, Chris. I know you and your old man. He is a business partner of my father. Very interesting to see you here," he said, grinning. He didn't give a damn what could happen to him. "Alright… it's not that surprising, considering that everyone at school and half of New York knows about your little rich 'gang'. But, as I've pointed out, you have money – so everyone pretends they're blind and don't see anything_

_you're doing."_  
_  
Chris grabbed him by his jacket and hauled him an inch up from the ground but Tony continued, meeting his glare directly. "That's why I wanna be here. You do things that everyone knows about, but you all come from money so you're unreachable by the police."_

_For a minute, Chris looked like he would hit him again but then he laughed sharply and let go of him. Tony fell to the floor._

_"Who are you again? My father has lots of business partners."_

_One of the kids stepped out. "I know him," he said. "That's Anthony DiNozzo."_

_The others looked at Tony with a new-found interest._

_Chris whistled. "DiNozzo? You have more money than any of us here." He cocked his head and stepped closer again. "Why are you really here, Anthony?"_

_Tony chose to answer honestly. Half of these kids did it for the same reason, anyway. "I want to make my father angry. I want to hurt him, so he'll let me go," he said coldly._

_Chris looked amused. "Why not just leave, then?" he asked._

_Tony narrowed his eyes and let the anger swallow him. Chris smiled broadly. "You really do want to hurt him…" He knelt down beside him, getting uncomfortably close._

_"I'll tell you a secret." He leaned in and whispered into Tony's ear, sending tingles down his spine. "I do it for the same reason."_

_He pulled away from Tony and cupped his cheek affectionately. "Welcome home."_

Tony smiled smugly and added, "Besides, I'll take the queen anyway."

True to his words, he took it after another three moves. Instead of attacking afterwards, though, he retrieved.

"You're toying with me," Steve growled, frustrated.

Tony smiled sweetly. "See? This is the beauty of the game. You, as my opponent, don't know where you stand. You aren't able to tell if I'm, like you said, toying with you or if I know something that you don't and am retrieving because of it."

Steve looked at the board, then at Tony. "No, you don't. You're just toying."

Tony grinned again. "Okay, you got me," he admitted.

Steve scowled. "You should respect me, ya know? I can win over you."

"You won the first five games we played together," Tony reminded him.

"Fine, fine," Steve snorted. "Then you learned how to play, I get it."

Tony laughed and relaxed his posture.

Steve watched him more closely. Now would be the time.

"The bourbon?" he asked simply.

Tony blinked but otherwise didn't show any signs of discomfort. "Let's say I panicked," he offered and moved with his queen to threaten Steve's rook.

"Not good enough," Steve pressed and moved his rook to safety. Tony took Steve's bishop instead with his queen, which Steve failed to realize had been in jeopardy as well.

Alright – much more aggressive game now. He sighed and looked at Tony who was also observing him.

"Want to know what the fun of this game is?"

Steve was quiet, waiting.

"You can't win. You just don't know it yet."

Steve studied the board while Tony continued. "This is the offensive part of my game. I've put all my figures onto their places. You didn't notice it because you were focused on attacking… And that was your mistake. You've given up control over the board and now you won't be able to mount an attack."

Steve looked more closely, playing all next possible moves in his mind. The kid was right. Another two moves and he would lose. "So, you were directing the pieces to those places all game."

Tony smirked. "Yep, you need them at their places before the real fun can begin."

* * *

Chris looked at the tall, narrow building that rose before him and smiled.

This was going to be so much fun.

He entered the main door and headed straight for the reception. The hotel wasn't very big and neither it was luxurious, but for his purposes he couldn't have chosen a better place.

The building was only twenty minutes, at most, from the NCIS headquarters and that was all he needed to know. Besides, they would surely kick him out of anything that had more than two stars.

He went up to the reception and smiled at the lady behind the desk charmingly. At first, she frowned but then changed her expression into the one of adequate politeness.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

Chris grinned.

_Hell yeah. You could bend over the table and let me have my way._

"Do ya have-" he stopped and cleared his throat. "I'd like to rent a room." He articulated each word, trying to appear more sophisticated. At least, that's what he thought he was doing.

The receptionist smiled brightly. Apparently, they didn't have many guests here.

She jumped excitedly to a computer and started typing on the keyboard. "For how long?"

"Not sure," Chris shrugged. "Let's say for a week?"

The receptionist looked up. "For a week? That's great!" She gazed over to the computer. "You can have number 12. It's the top room but it has a very nice view."

"I have a nice view right now," he said.

She frowned a bit and looked him up and down. Chris didn't mind the cold look in her eyes because, after all, he knew the outcome. He was now the hotel's guest so they had to try and treat him with some respect, no matter how he acted.

True to his thoughts, the receptionist smiled sweetly. "Why, thank you," she purred then handed him over the keys from his new room.

"Would you like to pay in cash or by card?"

* * *

Gibbs had been sanding for two hours now and finally discovered something that could be called a peace of mind.

Not for long, though, because his cell phone started ringing. He looked at the ID before answering it. "Yeah?" he barked, annoyed. He had a feeling he knew where this conversation would be headed.

"Nice to hear you, too, Gibbs," Abby replied.

"We heard each other today at work," he reminded her.

"Yes," Abby admitted, "but I didn't have my master plan ready then."

Here we go…

"Master plan?"

"Yes, Gibbs!" Abby squeaked excitedly. "You'd be surprised by its simplicity."

Gibbs was getting confused now. "What are you talking about, Abbs?" he prompted.

"We'll invite Tony and Steve out for dinner, make them talk." She mimicked the evil laugh and waited for him to response.

"What do you mean by 'we'?" he asked instead, already knowing the answer.

"We – the whole team," Abby specified cheerfully, surely patting her shoulder in satisfaction for how great the idea was.

"It's none of our business-" he started but was cut off by her.

"Don't say that, mister! It is so our business. Come on," she added pleadingly. "For me? Please?"

Gibbs rolled his eyes. How could he say no to her?

* * *

**Again, please, let me know what you think :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Huge thanks to my Beta and all the reviewers :)**

* * *

**Chapter Four: The Middlegame**

"You didn't answer my question," Steve pressed and moved closer to the man in front of him.

Tony leaned back on the couch, as if trying to make as much space between them as possible, his eyes roving around the room. Steve could almost hear his mind racing wildly. He had to be wondering either how much to let on or how to get away from this conversation altogether.

Finally, Tony looked up at him in understating that he had no other choice and Steve smirked in satisfaction.

_Yep. No getting away.  
_  
Tony took a deep breath and opened his mouth to speak. He looked determined to talk and Steve was grateful for the trust he'd earned over the years.

"I went undercover…" Tony started. Then he paused and Steve sighed.

It wouldn't be so easy after all.

"It just didn't go as planned and it tired me. That's all," Tony finished and smiled that fake smile Steve hated so much.

Did he honestly think he would buy that?

"Why don't you trust me?" Steve asked. He needed to get to the root of the problem, even at the price of a more aggressive game.

Maybe, if he provoked him with enough accuracy, he would get some answers.

As he thought that, Tony's eyes widened in genuine surprise. "What?" he exclaimed. "I trust you with my life! How can you say that?"

Steve ran a hand across his face. The conversation was going to be like running across a minefield. He had to choose carefully where to step.

"Then why're you lying to me?" he asked with an edge in his voice – just getting enough pressure to make him feel uncomfortable, not cornered.

"I'm not-" Tony closed his eyes for a second then started again. "It's not about trust…"

"So what's it about? You've gotta help me here. I'm not a psychic."

Tony chuckled. "Neither mentalist? You'd make a great Patrick Jane, you know."

"First," Steve snapped impatiently, "I have no idea what you're talking about and second – don't change the subject!" Tony opened his mouth but shut it when his cellphone started ringing. He answered it with a barked surname.

At least Steve had the time to think of how to continue in their conversation.

He watched as Tony relaxed when the person on the other side of line replied. He couldn't hear a word the person said but he recognized a woman's voice.

"No, I'm not trying to replace Gibbs," Tony said into the cell and rolled his eyes before continuing, slightly annoyed. "What do you need, Abbs?"

He listened for a while, glancing at Steve occasionally. "I'm not sure he can make it. He's leaving tomorrow… No, I can't make him stay…"

"Is it about me?" Steve asked.

Tony covered the phone with his hand so Abby wouldn't hear them and answered. "She wants us all to have a dinner tomorrow."

"Okay," Steve said simply.

Tony stared at him. "What?"

"I didn't tell you?" he smiled forcefully. "I'm staying for the weekend."

When Tony didn't react, Steve pointed at the cellphone in his hand and urged him to confirm the invitation. Tony complied hesitantly and then hung up. Silence set in after that and Steve knew where the next part of their talk would be headed. He waited and tried not to let the nervousness he felt show on his face.

"What about your family?" Tony finally broke the mutual staring contest.

"They're fine with it," Steve answered truthfully.

"Work?"

Now he looked sideways. Here we go. He wanted Tony to be honest with him so he should do the same. "I had an argument with the chief..." He winced at the memory. "He recommended me a vacation… and you know how it is with those."

Tony frowned. "What was it about? I mean, I have a hard time imagining you arguing with anyone who's not me," he added with a small smile.

"If I tell you the truth, will you be honest with me as well?" Steve asked.

Tony was quiet for a moment but then he nodded slowly.

"Okay, so… how to begin?" Steve took a deep breath. "You remember Christopher Jenkins?" he said finally. It would do no good to beat about the bush.

Tony paled a little but answered without wavering. "Yes."

"He was released five months ago and the department withheld it from me. I'd asked them many times to tell me if something like that happened but it probably didn't bother them much, I guess."

Tony waited for him to continue but nothing came. "So?" he prompted. "That's why you argued with your chief?"

Steve just stared at him for some time. He was too stunned to speak.

"You don't get it, do ya?"

Tony cocked his head. "Get what? He's free but that has nothing to do with me." He seemed confused and it pissed Steve off.

What was wrong with him?

"You kiddin' me?" he bellowed. "It has nothing to do with you? You're the reason his life's been destroyed!"

Tony stood up hastily, making his way to the kitchen. He didn't even turn the lights on and headed straight for the counter, searching for something. Steve sighed and paced after him.

He'd stepped on one of the mines.

Leaning against the door frame, he said,"If you're looking for the bourbon, I threw it away."

Tony shot him a nasty glare and faced the counter again. "Not looking for it. I needed to busy myself, otherwise I'd punch you."

Steve chuckled but then realized it wasn't meant as a joke.

"I'm sorry," he apologized softly. When Tony didn't react, he stepped closer and tried to catch his arm to turn him around but the kid yanked it away. "I didn't mean it."

Tony glared at him and tried to walk around, but when Steve caught him by the arm again, he stopped and hissed. "And even if so, wasn't it a good thing to do?" The words sounded hard and cold but his eyes were soft and pleading. "Isn't it better if people like him rot in a prison or simply die?"

Steve narrowed his eyes. "You're lying again. You don't believe a single thing you said."

Tony tried to pull out away from his grasp again, so Steve pressed him hard against the nearest wall, using his other hand. "Do we have to do this again? I thought you grew up from trying to run away."

Tony stilled and looked him directly in the eyes. For a minute, Steve thought that he was really going to punch him but then an expression of resignation crossed his face.

"Fine, talk," he said shortly.

Steve didn't ease his grip. He knew Tony would vanish the second an opportunity presented itself. "It's not about what you think or what I think… It's about what Christopher thinks."

Tony eyed him for a minute. "You say he blames me for what happened?"

"Yeah," Steve replied. "Who else would he blame?"

Tony answered with another question. "How d'you know?"

"I… visited him once. A month after his imprisonment," Steve admitted.

Tony stared at him. "Why did you do that?" he asked incredulously.

"Don't know," Steve sighed. "Maybe I wanted to hear the other side of the story…"

"And talk to me about trust," Tony remarked sarcastically.

"Hey!" Steve pressed him harder against the wall. "I did trust you, even back then. I just wanted to know everything that had happened… everything you didn't tell me."

It was out. He watched as Tony paled visibly. "You mean- he told you-"

"Not everything but I got the picture… it was enough to make me want to kill your father," he added honestly.

Somehow, it felt good to finally let this out. All those years, he'd waited for Tony to finally talk to him about his childhood but it never came. He only knew Tony's father was a neglecting bastard but it was enough to make his blood boil and to make him want to hit someone, preferably the man that was responsible for the mess.

He wasn't sure what he'd do if he knew the whole truth. Really, this was enough.

"…not everything then," Tony muttered.

It evidently wasn't meant for him to hear it but Steve heard it nonetheless. "So there's more." That confirmed his suspicion.

Tony smiled at him. It was not a warm smile. "Why don't you ask Chris? He seems to like sharing things with other people."

"Stop f*ing joking around!" Steve shouted in his face angrily. "Are you even listening to yourself?"

Tony tried to pull away from the wall but it only made Steve hold him more firmly. "Well, sorry for that, but it's my life and he didn't have the right to tell anyone," he snapped.

Steve said nothing. He didn't have an answer for that.

"And why didn't you ask me instead?" Tony rasped out.

Now he snorted. "Like you'd answer me."

Tony blinked. He hit the bull's eye.

"You know I'm right," Steve sighed and eased his grip on him.

This conversation was at its end.

As expected, Tony took the opportunity and pulled away from him. "I'm tired I have work tomorrow," he said, looking somewhere over Steve's shoulder.

Steve let him reluctantly go; just for tonight. "Okay."

Tony turned his back to him and exited the kitchen. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," Steve murmured into the dark.

* * *

_"You won't do that."_  
_  
"Wanna bet on it?"_

_Silence. Then, "Get the hell out of my way."_

_He tightened his grip on the gun. "No."_

* * *

Tony was woken up by his alarm clock. He opened his eyes and groaned.

This was all f*ing ridiculous.

He'd behaved like a complete idiot yesterday. Steve only wanted to help him, there was nothing else to it and yet, Tony couldn't bring himself to talk to him – tell him what exactly was wrong.

He ran his hands through his hair and got up. After a short trip to the bathroom, he changed into relatively comfortable clothes and made his way to the kitchen.

Steve was there, already sitting behind the table and munching on toast that Tony had bought.

"Morning," he greeted.

Tony shifted his weight nervously and stared at the ground for a moment. When he finally lifted his head up, he saw Steve observing him closely. Tony scolded himself for behaving so childishly. He didn't have any reason to feel so twitchy. "Um… 'm sorry," he said in a tight voice.

"Don't apologize," Steve admonished him.

He smiled. He knew this one. "Yeah… it's a sign of weakness."

That earned him a raised eyebrow. "What? Who says this crap?"

Tony chuckled. "My boss," he replied and sat down on the opposite side of the table. He felt honestly better now and most of the tension left his body.

"So," he started. "Abby wants us to have a dinner together. She says right after work would be, and I quote, 'awesome'."

Steve smiled as he finished his toast. "Fine."

Tony looked at him, horrified. "You really wanna go? I mean, well… I love my team, but they can easily rip you up just with their questions."

Steve laughed. "I think I can handle that."

Tony smirked. Now, there was only one thing he wanted to clear up. "Okay, just promise me… no talking about past around them, okay?"

Steve frowned at that but nodded. "If that's what you want…"

"Yeah, it is," Tony replied without hesitation.

"That's settled then," Steve said, although he clearly wasn't very happy with the outcome and Tony knew he could count on more talking about the whole situation in the near future.

At least it wouldn't be discussed at dinner.

* * *

Chris was sitting on a bench. He'd spent the whole morning watching people going in and out of the NCIS headquarters. Thanks to Tom, he knew what Tony looked like now. The only thing he needed was to see him on his own and to confirm it was really the man he was looking for.

Tom was smart and rarely got something wrong, but you never knew… and with this, Chris had to proceed cautiously. He was playing with fire, so he needed to act carefully if he wanted to stay in the game for a while.

Anthony DiNozzo was now a federal agent and toying with feds wouldn't be an easy task.

And how ridiculous was that? The small, thin kid was now defending justice. Fair to say, life had chosen interesting paths for them all.

He chuckled to himself, remembering the second time, he'd met Tony.

_They were standing on the school grounds discussing that day's plans, when Jeff spotted something._

_"Hey, Chris! Look who's there over there," he cried out enthusiastically._

_Chris turned around and looked in the direction his friend was pointing. Anthony DiNozzo was leaning against a wall of the school building and was talking to two older boys. He, wrapped in a warm coat, seemed bored with their conversation, whereas the other two were gesturing heatedly and looked very angry._

_"He's having trouble?" Ricky asked to no one in particular._

_"If so, he doesn't give a sh*," Tom commented dryly._

_Chris narrowed his eyes as the two boys stepped closer to Tony._

_Three days had passed since his late night visit and since they had last seen him. They didn't really know anything about him and had discussed nothing but the fact he'd joined their family… but he was now a part of it, nonetheless._

_And as a family, they had to protect each other._

_At least, that's what he assumed families should do._

_"Let's go," he ordered and went up to Tony. His three friends followed him without hesitation._

_As he approached the small gathering, one of the boys shouted at Tony. "Hey! Listen to me when I'm talking to you!" He then clenched his fist into a ball with an evident intention to hit him._

_Chris dashed forward and caught his hand before he hit him, gripping it so hard the boy cried out in pain. Jeff stood next to Tony, and Ricky with Tom both put their hands on the other boy's shoulders._

_"Is there a problem?" Chris glanced over at Tony and had to smile. The kid was stunned – there was no better way to describe it. His mouth hung open and his eyes were wide with surprise._

_"N-no," he stuttered. "Not really."_

_"Why don't I believe you?" Chris asked and Tony gulped._

_Tom squeezed hard the shoulder of the boy in front of him and said in a cold voice, stressing every word, "You two should better go. If we see you again anywhere near DiNozzo, we'll have a problem and that wouldn't be good, would it?" He leaned closer to the boy and hissed in his ear. "Understand?" When the boy nodded frantically, he shoved him away._

_The boy stumbled and, together with his friend, ran away._

_Jeff looked down at Tony. "What was that about?"_

_He was the tallest of their group and the high difference between him and Tony seemed almost ridiculous. Tony wrapped the coat tighter around his body. "Uh… nothing unusual," he replied warily. "Lots of kid's parents hate my father and they kinda pass it onto their children."_

_"Oh, I had the same problem," Ricky admitted cheerfully. "Then my old man died and now everyone's happy." A blissful expression crossed his face and he smiled widely. "The best thing that ever happened to me..."_

_Chris snickered. "Why didn't you come to the gym again?" he asked Tony._

_"Couldn't. It's hard to sneak out without anyone noticing me and yesterday, father had a business dinner and I had to attend."_

_"Oh, you had to attend!" Ricky said in a mocking voice. "What are you? Some little doll he can drag around?"_

_Tony's posture stiffened._

_"See? No. You're your own person and you can do whatever you want!"_

_Chris could see the question 'Can I?' forming on Tony's lips. "Coming with us?" he asked before he could say anything._

_The kid looked uncertain. "Uh… father said I should wait here until his secretary picked me up," he replied. Chris saw a slight hint of fear briefly flashing across his eyes._

_He made a note to ask about it later._

_"So what?" Ricky raised his voice as he often did when something really excited him. "You jump when your papa says? Bullshit!"_

_Tony flinched at that._

_"What?" he smiled evilly. "Don't like swearing? For f*'s sake, you're worse than Chris here!" he pointed at his friend. "Really, what are you? Nuns?"_

_"I'm twelve, you know," Tony said defensively._

_"And I'm seventeen. Doesn't stop me from buying alcohol, though," Ricky sneered._

_"Enough," Jeff interfered. He was getting bored with all the talking and needed to do something more entertaining. "Can we go now?" he asked._

_Chris looked at Tony. It took a moment, but then, Tony nodded. "Okay." It was a mere whisper but it sounded firm._

_"Great," Chris purred. "No one's at my house so we can head there."_

_"Cool," Ricky grinned. "You have a really hot maid. Totally different from that our fat old hag," he grimaced._

_They all turned to go, with Ricky now describing their newly employed and really frightening cook, when Tony reached out and stopped Chris by his arm._

_"Why did you help me?" he asked in a small voice._

_Chris watched the clear uncertainty in his eyes and smiled. "That's what our family does. We help each other."_

He stood up and made his way closer to the entrance. He watched as a silver haired man arrived, talked for a moment to the guard, and drove through the gate.

Chris smiled to himself.

They should come into D.C. today. His family would return...

Not everyone, though, that Chris knew for sure. He hadn't been in touch with anyone all those years. Tom had visited him a few times but then he stopped appearing. Chris didn't blame him. There had been nothing to talk about, after all, and they'd spent most of the time with a trivial small talk, not actually knowing what to say to one another.

He stopped and observed other cars that pulled over to the building.

Ricky had said he would try to contact all of their former friends but Chris had known even then that it was an impossible task. For example, Derek wouldn't show up here. He had his own family now.

And that was only the tip of the iceberg.

Many of them had surely married, maybe even had children. Ricky said that Alex had been caught by the police for drug distribution.

Chris glanced over at the road and his heart almost stopped, overwhelmed by the excitement and the grudge he suddenly felt at the same time.

There he was, looking like nothing had ever happened, driving calmly in his car. Chris felt a strong wave of hatred washing over him, swallowing him from inside. His hands started shaking from the emotion and he had to hide them inside his pockets, so no one would see.

He needed to calm down.

Plastering a friendly smile on his lips, he adjusted his shirt and took a step towards the approaching car.

Now wasn't the time for retribution. That would be stupid.

However, he wanted… no, he needed to do this… to talk to him, even this briefly… just for the fun.

* * *

Tony stopped at the gateway and greeted the guard. They knew each other well so there was no need to pull out his ID.

"Excuse me."

Tony turned to the voice. A man in his forties stood beside his car. He had short sandy hair and was smiling at him friendly. Tony immediately took notice of the guy's ear, which was cut in half. He wasn't very handsome but when one dug deep enough and looked for it, there would definitely be something in him.

It seemed like once, he could have been charming but something had kicked it out of him.

Tony frowned a bit. He'd seen this appearance on people before. Right after they got out from prison.

"Yes?" he returned the smile, trying hard not to let his feelings show on his face.

The man rested his hand on the opened car window. "Don't ya- you know how to get to the nearest subway? I'm running out of time and really need to get there."

"Oh, that's easy," Tony replied and pointed in one direction from his car. "Just go this way and at the end of the street, turn left and voilà, you're there."

The guy studied him for a minute. His look was intense and seemed to be searching for something. Tony started getting a little uncomfortable when the stranger smiled at him brightly. "Thanks! You really saved me."

"No problem," Tony forced out. His mind urged him to get away from this person. He had no idea why he felt this way but the man had a strange vibe about him that made Tony uneasy.

Maybe it was because of the guy's demeanor and the fact that the man looked like a criminal. Throughout the years Tony had spent as a cop, he'd learned to distinguish the innocent people from the bad ones.

And this one surely didn't look like the innocent type.

The man opened his mouth to say something when another car made its way to the entrance.

"Hey, Tony! Move it!" the guard called at them.

Tony turned to the stranger and said apologetically, "Sorry, I need to go. Hope you won't be late." Inside, however, he was glad he had an excuse to get away.

"Thanks to you I won't," the man replied lightly. "By the way, my name's Chris." He reached out his hand and Tony shook it automatically, although his blood went cold and his whole body tensed.

Was this some kind of a practical joke or what?

He looked at the man more carefully. He had a small smile on his lips that said he knew something that Tony didn't. His expression was sending chills down his spine. The man was evidently amused by this situation and didn't try to hide the fact.

Tony blinked, realizing he'd been staring and said nothing for a long time. "Nice to meet you," he replied finally and let go of Chris' hand.

The man observed him for a moment. Then he winked at him knowingly and moved away from the car, making his way across the street.

Tony watched his retreating back until the car horn made him jump and return to reality.

* * *

"DiNozzo, you hear me?" Gibbs barked.

Tony turned to look at him. They were in the elevator, riding down to Autopsy. Apparently, his boss had been talking to him and he failed to pay attention to what was being said. And that meant trouble.

He could still pretend he'd heard him, though…

Should he answer something or just nod in agreement to whatever was said? Maybe it required only yes or no answer. In that case, he could try his luck and choose one of these two.

Gibbs was looking at him expectantly and was waiting.

Nah, he wouldn't fool this one.

"No, boss," he replied honestly.

That earned him a head slap.

"Sorry, boss," he apologized and rubbed the back of his head. "Won't happen again."

Gibbs sighed and stopped the elevator. Tony felt slightly claustrophobic in the small space, from which the only escape was through his boss.

That meant there was no escape.

However, he waited patiently for Gibbs to speak as he tried to relax his posture and not to show the discomfort he felt. The man seemed to be searching for words to express himself for a minute, before he evidently realized he wouldn't find any so he gave up.

"You okay?" he asked gruffly, turning to him and piercing him with that damn x-ray glare of his.

"Yes," Tony said quickly, way too quickly. He cursed himself in mind.

Gibbs narrowed his eyes. "Something wrong?"

"No."

Tony watched as Gibbs' body tensed. Not good. The man knew he was lying to him. Gibbs could always tell when someone did that and he always took it like an insult on his own person.

Gibbs' jaw clenched. He looked really, really angry and Tony could bet everything he had that he was the cause of it.

"Fine," his boss said through gritted teeth and started the elevator again.

* * *

**The next chapter is called The Attack, so some action is about to come ;) ... I should probably warn you - expect the unexpected.**

**And again, please, let me know what you think :) **


	5. Chapter 5

**I want to apologize for the delay and to thank Natalie (TwoSexySombreros) for her work and that she always makes time for this story, even though she has lots of obligations. **

**Thanks for the reviews as well - they make my day :)**

**Also, in each chapter, I censored (kinda) the swear words - I thought that Fanfiction is controlling it. Apparently, it doesn't matter that much, so from now on, I'm adding another warning - swearing.**

* * *

**Chapter Five: The Attack**

Gibbs parked his car nearby a building Abby considered suitable to have dinner in. As expected, it was only another bar where people could get drunk and no one would be giving them disgusted looks.

He sighed and entered through the main door. Immediately, he was hit by loud music and a strong odor of smoke, alcohol and sweat from people wildly moving on the dance floor.

Frowning, he headed to the back corner where he spotted Abby, already drinking and chatting with McGee and Kate. Beside them sat Ducky, looking vaguely uneasy with his surroundings.

"I need to check what places you go to more often," he shouted at Abby instead of a greeting. He had to raise his voice; she wouldn't hear him otherwise.

Abby grinned at him. "Come on, Gibbs! It's nice here and the people are great!" she exclaimed and drank from her glass. It was some sort of purple cocktail.

"I can easily object to that, Abigail," Ducky said and like that, he drew her into a loud conversation on how to differ a good restaurant from a dirty pub.

"Hey Gibbs," Kate said to him, sounding disappointed. "Didn't expect you'd actually come here."

Gibbs raised an eyebrow. "Why wouldn't I?" he asked in a sarcastic voice. "I like places where someone could easily rob you or kill you and no one would even hear you shouting for a help."

McGee smiled and nodded. "Right?" He looked over at Kate, missing the irony in Gibbs' voice. He shot her a winning smile and reached out his hand, palm upwards.

Kate rolled her eyes and gave him five bucks.

"Did you bet on whether or not I'd come?" Gibbs asked threateningly.

"No," McGee blurted out.

"Gibbs! How could we do something like that?" Kate asked in a pretend hurt voice.

"You really wanna-" Gibbs started but was interrupted for the second time in just two days; and by the same person.

"Hi everyone," Steve appeared before their table and behind him stood Tony. He looked a little nervous but immediately placed a big smile on his lips when he felt eyes on him.

"Only you, Abbs," he sat down and, leaning over the table, he kissed Abby on her cheek, "could take us to this bar for a dinner."

She smiled at him brightly. "Maybe I have a hidden motive."

"Getting us drunk? I doubt they even serve food here at all…" Steve remarked, sitting down between Tony and Gibbs. He offered his hand to him again and tonight Gibbs ignored it, only slightly nodding his head in acknowledgement of Steve's presence.

He wasn't up for happy chit-chat and wanted to let the man know from the beginning.

On the other side of the table, Abby was now pouting unhappily. "How do you know?"

"That you wanna get us drunk?" Steve asked. "Only a guess but as I see, I'm right, aren't I?" He winked at her and Abby blushed and grinned. "You know your opponent well, mister," she said.

Steve looked confused. "I'm your opponent?"

"It's just a saying."

"I've never heard it."

Abby grinned. "Well, now you have." She looked satisfied with her first impression on Steve, with which Gibbs had to disagree.

"You'll get used to it. Don't worry," Ducky commented.

Steve evidently hadn't noticed him till now. He jumped up and extended his hand.

Gibbs grimaced. The man was too polite… Steve seemed to be eager to make friends with everyone who knew his boy and-

He tried to think it through rationally.

Maybe that was the problem. Looking at the situation by a relatively objective eye, this had to be the reason why Gibbs didn't like Steve.

He was intruding in his territory and judging by the team's reactions, he was doing it successfully.

"I'm sorry," Steve smiled at Ducky. "I haven't been introduced to you…"

"Doctor Mallard," Ducky said. "Friends call me Ducky, though, and as I can see you're Tony's close friend, you may join them in the tradition."

Even Ducky fell into his trap. Gibbs was now the last voice of the reason in this group.

"My pleasure," Steve said. They exchanged some more pleasantries, which Gibbs managed to ignore successfully.

"So," Abby looked at the newcomers evilly. "What do you want for a drink?"

* * *

Ricky and his friends found Chris leaning against a car, solely focused on the bar in front of them.

Tom was the first to announce their arrival. "Hey man!" he shouted and went up to Chris, hugging him affectionately. Chris hugged him back and smiled widely.

"Hey, Tom! Miss me?"

"I sure did," Tom answered honestly.

Ricky was the second that went forward. He greeted Chris warmly and introduced two of his friends. "Alan and Ed," he waved at them. "You should remember Ed, he was with us." That was being aimed at a big red haired man.

Ed nodded with his head neutrally, although his eyes were shining with an admiration as he watched Chris. He didn't take his eyes off him while Ricky continued with introducing the second fella. "Alan is my friend – no relation to Anthony or us – he just gets easily bored and he wanted to do somethin' interesting." Ricky grinned. "And I had a feelin' this'd get interesting, right?"

Chris looked over at the bar. He'd watched them the whole day and followed Tony here. Ricky had called him that afternoon, but now that they were there there'd be no reason to linger anymore. He wasn't sure how the night would evolve but he was prepared to improvise, if needed... He was getting really excited about all this.

"Yeah," he confirmed. "It'd be interesting."

_"You sure it's him?" Tom asked._

_Chris watched the man more closely. "Yeah, it's him."_

_"Great," Tom said. "Although, it's more interesting when things don't go as planned, with this one, it's better to be sure."_

_On his left side, Jeff nodded frantically._

_"Don't be a pussy," Ricky said and prodded them to move. "I'll be watching," he reminded them. "Ya know the signal, right?"_

_Chris shot him a glare. "I invented it, you moron."_

_Ricky grinned. "Sure, boss. Now move it, will ya?"_

_Chris scoffed and with that, he, Tom and Jeff went up to the man jogging in their direction. It was definitely DiNozzo Senior's secretary._

_He'd seen him once in his father's office, concluding some contract in the name of DiNozzo's company._

_He hadn't liked him then and he now hated him even more after he made Tony tell him everything._

_They were all fucking shitheads - his father, Tony's father, this so called secretary jogging happily around… all of them._

_They all thought 'the kids' wouldn't stand up to them, wouldn't defend themselves._

_His body shook with excitement._

_They were all wrong, so wrong._

_"Excuse me." He stopped Paul. It was an early morning and in this part of park was no one else but them. They'd been watching the man for a few days to learn his daily schedule, and this part of his Mondays seemed the most convenient for their plan._

_"I don't have time," Paul retorted and wanted to take off. Tom and Jeff – both strong enough to take down one huge man – grabbed him from behind._

_"You going nowhere," Chris hissed._

_They shoved him onto a green part of park with trees and bushes. Regardless, Ricky was keeping an eye on their surroundings, it'd be a bother to get interrupted._

_Paul started struggling and shouting, so Chris punched him leisurely in the stomach to silence him. He aimed for the lower part of the man's body. They'd agreed before not to mess up with his face._

_Everyone would notice that._

_"I talk, you listen," he said in a deep voice and punched him again with as much strength as he was able to summon. It was enough. As he was no longer being supported by Jeff or Tom, the secretary fell to the ground._

_Chris kicked him couple of times and only then did he continue. "Our friend Tony told me what you did to him."_

_Paul looked up with angry, but also horrified, eyes. "So what?" he shouted. "What does it have to do with that brat?"_

_Now, it was Tom who kicked him, hard, right in the kidney. "Shut up and listen, you fucking asshole."_

_Chris leaned down. "He isn't a brat, you hear me?"_

_Paul stared at him, holding his abdomen protectively._

_Chris hit him again. "I said - you hear me?" He reached into his pocket and pulled out his trump card. A gun he'd stolen from his father a long time ago. His old man never noticed._

_Paul stiffened at the sight and as a cold metal touched his forehead, he started shaking violently. "C-Come on," he whispered in a wavering voice, "We can talk. This- this isn't necessary…"_

_Chris released the safety catch with a snapping sound and pressed the gun harder into the man's head._

_"Now listen to me carefully," he growled. "If you ever touch Tony again… if you ever lay a hand on him, I'll kill you. I won't hesitate a second to end your worthless life."_

_Tom got down and wrapped his hand around Paul's neck. He pressed. "He's under our protection now. Understand?"_

_Paul was suffocating but didn't struggle. He could only nod but it was enough for them. Tom let him choke for a whole minute until he finally released him._

_Paul fell down on his hands and coughed, fighting for every shallow breath he could take._

_Jeff kicked him for his own pleasure one more time._

_Chris put the safety on again and hid the gun. He was satisfied with them all and felt adrenalin floating through his veins. It was like some kind of a drug to him… no, it was better than any drug in this world he could take..._

_It was a great feeling._

_He couldn't wait to see how Tony would react when they tell him the news, of course, not in a detail. He didn't need to know the details yet._

_The only fact that was sufficient was that he no longer would have to worry because of this man._

* * *

Steve was slowly getting annoyed by Gibbs' glares and the way the man was talking to him, if he spoke at all.

He obviously didn't like him, or rather, didn't like the bond between him and Tony. It was so evident, he was surprised that Tony remained oblivious to it.

Although, speaking of Tony…

The kid was twitchy and jumpy all night. Steve got startled a few times when Tony suddenly flinched when a waitress brought drinks to them or when he jumped because someone brushed his back when passing around.

He looked like he expected to get attacked any minute.

"What's up with you?" Steve asked him in a low voice. He didn't need to lower it that much because of the thundering music that was currently crashing his ears with its power.

Tony drank from his glass. "Nothing," he answered and turned his attention to his other colleagues. They were discussing their recent case and everyone, including Ducky, seemed lost in the conversation. Well, everyone but Gibbs, who was drinking his bourbon and silently sending daggers in Steve's direction.

He sighed and decided to give the man one last chance to be nice.

"So," he addressed him. "How are you handling Tony here?" It wasn't brilliant but at least it was a start.

Gibbs glared at him and it felt like he was trying to see into his mind. Steve glared stubbornly back, not letting him win.

Finally, Gibbs opened his mouth to speak. "You don't know?"

Steve frowned. The man was trying his patience, or what? "I don't come here often, so no."

Gibbs smiled slightly. It reminded Steve of a shark, though. "Thought you and DiNozzo were close."

Steve clenched his teeth. "Well, we are."

"Really?"

Now he had enough. Who did he think he was? Gibbs didn't know anything about him and, judging by how Tony could be unapproachable regarding serious things, he couldn't have known the kid much either.

It's time for a payback. "Yeah, we're very close," he smirked, "I'm like a father to him."

Gibbs tensed and his knuckles turned white as he gripped the glass he was holding harder.

"Is that so?" he asked slowly, lowering his voice so no one else would pay any attention to them, and Steve suddenly knew he would lose this fight. "So where were you when he got shot his third day at work? Hm? Where were you when he wanted to buy a crappy apartment just because it was cheap and I had to kick his ass to find some other one that didn't have any holes in the walls?" Gibbs leaned closer, enjoying wholeheartedly his superiority in this moment. "Where were you when he was sick and nearly collapsed because he refused to go to the hospital so I had to drag him there?" He bombarded him with questions and looked determined to crush him with them. "You say you're like a father to him? Do you even know about any of those things? 'Cause judging by your expression, you don't…"

"You talk a lot," Steve remarked, not knowing what else to say.

Kate heard that and snorted. "Talk a lot? Gibbs?"

"More often, he waits for us to guess his thoughts and to read his mind than to actually say a single word." McGee chuckled at his joke and sipped from his glass.

"I can assure you," Ducky put his hand on McGee's shoulder, "that Jethro can be talkative if he wants to or the situation simply requires him to be."

"Really?" Tony grinned at Gibbs. "I'd like to see that. The only thing I get is 'do this, DiNozzo' and 'don't do that DiNozzo' and 'I told you not to do it' and then," he waved his hand in the air and clasped it with the other, "a head slap!"

Steve turned to Gibbs in one quick motion. "You're hitting him?" he almost shouted as his last portion of effort to be nice vanished completely.

It was replaced by an intense rage.

Gibbs narrowed his eyes. "I slap him on the back of the head when he's too slow or doesn't pay attention." With a stare, he dared the man to say more.

Tony put his hand on Steve and made him turn around to face him. "Yeah, just wake-up calls," he said, smiling, with a nervous trace in his voice. "I don't mind, really."

Steve shot Gibbs one more glare but then he calmed down a bit and took a sip from his drink.

* * *

Finally, Tony managed to calm Steve down with more beers coming onto their table. He wanted to have a peaceful night and thus needed everyone to be in a good mood.

It was hard, though.

He flinched when someone brushed his back again. Cursing, he drank from his beer. In this whole bar, he was definitely the only one that needed to calm down.

He didn't have any evidence that Chris from that morning was Chris from his childhood. Besides, it was unlikely that he would appear before the NCIS headquarters. It was too absurd; too improbable.

Tony blamed Steve for overthinking the situation.

If he hadn't been telling him about the vengeance stuff, he'd have been calm and wouldn't have even considered that the man from morning could be Christopher Jenkins.

Now, his nerves were at the verge of snapping.

"So…" Abby sipped from her glass and smiled sweetly. "I didn't hear how you two got to know each other…"

Tony rolled his eyes. "You couldn't, 'cause we didn't talk about it."

"No?" Abby pretended to be surprised. "That's great! So you can do it now in front of me as well!"

Tony opened his mouth but couldn't get a single word out. He didn't know how to react or what to say…

"Don't push them, Abby," Gibbs said with a hint of a mockery. "If they don't wanna talk about it, they don't have to."

Great. Now even Gibbs was cornering him. The bastard knew exactly what he's doing. He too wanted to know what was going on and as always, he had his own ways to reach his goal.

"That's not-" he started but was cut off by Steve's voice. "I met him when he was twelve." He was glaring directly into Gibbs' eyes as if daring him to do something.

Tony tensed and stared at Steve who was completely ignoring him, only focused on Gibbs.

He wouldn't- why would he-

"I remember it like it happened yesterday."

"Wow, that sounds dramatic," Abby purred happily and leaned forward to hear them more clearly through the loud music. McGee elbowed her to be quiet and to listen with the rest of them.

"Steve-" Tony lowered his voice and hissed at him. He got no reaction.

He'd promised not to talk about anything from the past.

"It was raining… really poetic… and I was called to a hostage situation in a bank. Nothing abnormal… It's New York, after all…" he chuckled and took a swallow from his drink, not letting his eyes leave Gibbs, who was stubbornly staring back.

It was like the two battled a quiet contest of endurance.

"Steve," Tony said more loudly. He wasn't sure what to do, how to make this drunken idiot shut up.

"And it's getting interesting," Kate grinned. She was then hushed by Ducky. "Let the man speak."

His four colleagues were listening intently and seemed unaware of Tony's panic attack or the- whatever it was - between Steve and Gibbs.

"Shame you weren't there, Gibbs, it's a really important moment in Tony's life… It made him the man he's now, y'know…" He stopped for a while and was only watching Gibbs. Tony hoped Steve realized that he should better shut up, so he stopped. Only then, Steve cocked his head as he remembered his original intention. "Anyway," he started again. "It turned out some kids wanted to have fun… Only, one of them had a revolver and was apparently outta his mind. I got-"

"Enough!" Tony raised his voice and all heads at the table turned to him.

At least Steve had shut his mouth.

"Sorry," he apologized. "Just need another drink. Steve, can you help me?" He'd heard this line in a lot of movies, but never actually believed he'd ever use it.

McGee looked at the half full glass that stood on the table before him. "But you have-"

Tony grabbed the drink and chugged it in one go. "No Probie, I don't." He grabbed Steve by his arm and hauled him to the bar, ignoring everyone and everything.

"What's wrong with you?" he hissed at him angrily when they were out of earshot.

Steve turned to him. "Was just talking to your boss," he said innocently.

Tony threw out his arms in frustration. "Well, that I get. But what was it you talked about!"

He glanced back at the table, feeling eyes on him. His friends were watching them curiously.

He took Steve by the arm again and dragged him out through the back door. He shoved him into the dark street.

The night was quiet and the air was cool but fresh, just like every time around this part of the year. Autumn had started and omnipresent water was hanging in the atmosphere, waiting for its opportunity to fall down.

"You promised me we wouldn't talk about the past," he said.

Steve folded his arms, evidently thinking about how to explain his behavior but failing.

Tony ran a hand through his hair. "What're you thinking?"

* * *

"Well," Abby said. "That was hinky."

"The story or the latter?" McGee asked.

"Both!" Abby exclaimed. Then she looked at Gibbs with pleading eyes. He always had an answer for everything and knew exactly what to do. "Should someone go after them?"

"I wouldn't do that, Abigail," Ducky answered before Gibbs could. "We should let them take their time. Evidently, there's something that's bothering both of them."

"But-" she started but was cut off by Gibbs. "Listen to Ducky," he said and stood up. "Going for a drink," he muttered and headed off.

Abby turned to her remaining colleagues. "What do you think happened?"

She addressed no one in particular and more to her friends talked to herself. She was worried about them all. Tony, Gibbs, Steve… Something was wrong and was hurting them all. And as she knew Tony and her boss, they wouldn't talk about it until hell froze over.

* * *

"I- I just wanted…" Steve sighed. "Is it that bad to tell them?" he asked.

"That's up to me to decide!" Tony yelled.

"It's just… you're acting twitchy all night and your boss-" he stopped.

Tony narrowed his eyes. What did Gibbs have to do with this? "What? What my boss?"

"I don't like him," Steve burst out.

It was getting more ridiculous with every passing second. "What?"

"He's got something against me and he's been provoking me all night," Steve explained in a pained voice like he knew exactly how absurd and pathetic it sounded.

Tony was completely lost. "And again - what?_"_

Steve shifted his weight and looked pissed all of a sudden. "He thinks he knows ya better and was throwing it in my face. So I wanted to show him it's me who really knows you. "

Tony stood there, staring at the man before him. He was stunned to say the least. "That's the reason? That's why you broke your promise? That's- because you wanted to satisfy some superiority complex?" He shouted the last words.

Steve raised his eyebrow. "Superiority? I think I have better name for it," he commented dryly, not looking at Tony.

Tony's whole body was shaking from anger and frustration.

"I don't-"

It came as a surprise. The punch into the back of his head sent him to the ground. He struggled to his feet, trying to stand up as fast as he could, when something- someone hit him again and the strength threw him forward.

He was crashed to the wall. His fingernails scratched the brick as he supported his weight and managed to turn around just in time to dodge the third blow.

He looked briefly at his attacker and his heart stopped. He froze for a second and another person appeared at his side. They kicked his feet apart, taking him off balance, and shoved him hard to the ground.

He hit his head and lost vision for a moment which only added to his rising panic.

He hadn't anticipated this… anything else, but not this.

He tried to raise his head and a pair of strong hands smashed it back down. Another two hands caught his arms and twisted them behind his back, making him cry out in pain.

Then he heard a shout.

He forced his mind to focus and his eyes to search for Steve. He finally managed to catch a glimpse of him. He was shoved to the wall by one huge man, while another one was pointing a gun at him. That was everything he saw before someone covered his eyes with their hand.

That someone leaned down and hot breath blew over his ear.

He flinched violently but the arms didn't release him. He couldn't move, couldn't even see Steve so the only thing his mind and body reflexively focused on was the raspy breathing in his ear and the low voice that started talking to him.

"Hey, Tony. Nice to meet ya again…"

His body shook at hearing that voice. He knew it, he remembered it, and now he felt it on his skin.

It was the voice from that morning. It was the voice of the man who'd introduced himself as Chris.

"Steve-" he mumbled. At least they let him speak and didn't take that away as well.

"Shh…" Chris whispered in his ear and someone placed their hand over his mouth. He inhaled through his nose and the smell of dirt and grime hit him. It was strong and came from the hand. It made him sick.

"Don't bother with Steve now," Chris' voice hissed in his ear. It was quiet so no one, even in a short distance, would hear them.

Steve was quiet as well. That wasn't good. Why was he quiet?

Tony started trembling. Please, say something. Please, please, please, pl-

"Calm down," Chris whispered softly and stroked his hair. "This is supposed to be fun and I ain't lettin' you ruin it." Tony noticed the strange way the man was talking. It was like he tried to talk properly, but sometimes forgot himself and then the words slipped out from his mouth mindlessly.

The more excited he got, the less he controlled his speech.

"I want you to enjoy it as well," Chris continued. His breathing was shallow and interlaced with an undisguised thrill. "I wanna destroy your life… piece by fucking piece and have ya watchin'." The stroking on his head was getting rougher with each word the man spoke. Tony struggled against all the hands but they were holding him tightly and didn't allow him to move even a millimeter.

"See?" Chris patted him appraisingly. "This is how ya should be. Fighting to the last second…" He then moved even closer and gripped his hair in his fist. "Unlike you, I have nothing to lose. Nothing." He stressed each word and talked slowly, like he wanted Tony to remember everything that would be said tonight. Like it was something crucial and therefore was very important not to forget.

"At the end, I'll go to prison again or die but I don't care, ya hear me? I don't fucking care as long as I take you down with me. You're gonna lose everything… just the way I did…"

Everyone was quiet after that before Chris spoke again. Tony was deafened by his own harsh intakes of breath through his nose and the buzzing in his ears, but the next words, he heard loud and clear.

"How about starting now?"

In one second, he gathered all his strength and tried to rise up, to release his body from the firm hold. For a brief moment, he thought he succeeded, but then the arms smashed him to the ground again.

And exactly at that moment, he heard another struggling on the other side of street and then a shot penetrated the otherwise silent night.

* * *

The hands released him.

Tony crawled to Steve on all four. His whole body felt numb and the only thing that was forcing him to move was his mind. It shut down completely and focused on one goal - to get to Steve.

Somewhere behind his back, he heard laughter but he couldn't care less. Everything else was unimportant and had to wait. Hours, days, years, he didn't care. It should wait forever. It didn't correspond with his need to get to the man lying on the cold ground… and not moving.

He hurried to Steve and took his head carefully in his hands. A pair of eyes looked at him.

God, he was still alive.

Tony pressed his palm to the small hole in Steve's chest. It got soaked immediately in a ruby-colored blood.

With his other hand shaking, he reached for his cellphone but realized he'd left it inside the bar in his jacket. He wanted to stand up and run for a help, although somewhere inside him, he knew it wouldn't help.

Steve grabbed him by his shirt.

Tony took the blood covered hand gently and pressed it to his lips. "I need to go for help, okay? Just-just wait for me." His voice was trembling but inside, he felt hollow. It was like he was seeing the whole scene in a television. It was just a movie and he watched passively as his double suffered instead of him. He couldn't feel any emotion. His mind was protecting him from the pain that would rip him apart; for now.

Steve gripped him tighter. "N-no…" he coughed. He knew he didn't have any time left. He forced Tony to lean closer with his hand. He had to do it- say it. It was his responsibility. "I-I love you as my… son… Don't- don't ever forget that…"

Tony felt tears running down his cheeks. They burned his skin and at the end of their path, they fell down onto Steve's face.

"Let me get the help," he pleaded. He didn't want it to end like this. "Don't leave me, please…"

Steve inhaled deeply as he tried to focus. "Say-say my f-family…" Tony tightened his grasp on Steve's hand. He didn't want to let him go. Maybe, if he held onto him firmly enough, he'd make him stay.

"Say what?" he rasped, not recognizing his own voice.

Steve looked up at the dark sky studded with stars.

Tony watched as his eyes lost their glint that had always shined in them. They didn't close but they didn't move, either.

He took a shaky breath, tears slowly falling down onto the unmoving figure. "Say what?" he tried again, more quietly. He didn't get any answer. "Please, say what?" His voice was desperate, trembling.

Steve's eyes were empty.

Tony stared into their depths. He could see it there. The despair of his soul he felt. Why had this happened? What had he done to-

It hit him. He knew what he'd done, he knew what had happened.

He choked back the tears and looked around. No one kept him and Steve company anymore. Not for long, though. They would appear again.

_"You're gonna lose everything… just the way I did…"_

Tony moved closer to Steve and kissed him on a forehead, mixing the blood on his lips with the salty tears.

_"You're gonna lose everything…"_

That wouldn't happen.

He stood on shaky legs and managed not to fall down. It was his first personal fight he'd won.

He wouldn't lose anything, because he'd find Chris before anything like that happened.


	6. Chapter 6

**Hi everyone :) I'm back with a new chapter! Before you get to read it, I want to thank you for the great and awesome and... I don't know what else but you get the gist... reviews! I always grin happily like an idiot when reading them :D**

**Also, huge thanks to TwoSexySombreros - you're the best!**

**- There's no action in the next two chapters but they're very important, so I had to write them... And with that in mind, I finally release you, so you can get to the story :)**

* * *

**Chapter Six: The Weaknesses (Part One)**

Gibbs returned to the table and placed his third glass of bourbon onto it. Ducky looked up at him and smiled sympathetically. "Are you feeling well, Jethro?" he asked.

Gibbs rolled his eyes. How could Ducky always tell when something was wrong with him?

"Sure, why wouldn't I?" he said with irritation apparent in his voice. Hopefully, that would make the questions stop coming.

"You don't seem well to me," Ducky insisted.

Gibbs shot him a glare. Only a miracle would make this man stop from trying to talk to his soul.

"Tony!" Kate cried out.

Next to her, McGee gasped loudly.

Gibbs followed the direction they were staring and saw DiNozzo approaching form through the crowd of people. He didn't even need to push his way to them. Everyone was backing away and observing him curiously.

He stepped to their table and took his jacket in the hands, not making an eye contact with anyone. He worried the fabric with his fingers gently.

"Tony!" Now it was time for Abby to shout. "Your hands-"

- were covered in blood.

"And your shirt-"

Gibbs stood up, making his way to Tony. He grabbed him by the shoulders, forcing him to focus. His lips had dried blood on them as well.

"What the hell-" he started but Tony stopped him with a slightly raised hand.

"Steve's behind the bar," he explained in a tight voice and apparently thought it was enough. Gibbs almost missed it for the loud music. "I need to get to work." He spoke with precision, like he'd practiced beforehand, and it seemed he didn't listen to a word he'd said. It went out because it needed to and that was the end. It had nothing else to do with him.

Gibbs gripped him tighter and Tony looked down at the hands holding him like he only noticed them now. He then saw his blood spattered shirt and reached to it slowly with his hand. He stopped when he realized it was too smeared with blood.

Gibbs released him and took Tony's hand in his own. He wanted to ask further but stopped himself. That wouldn't help. Tony was out of it.

"Duck, Kate – with me," he ordered.

"Boss?" McGee asked. He looked frightened.

"You and Abby stay here with DiNozzo."

He diverted his attention to Tony. "You stay here, understand?"

Tony didn't respond and was still staring at his hand. Gibbs let him reluctantly go and headed for the back door, with Kate and Ducky on his heels.

He had to act quickly.

* * *

"Tony?" Tim approached his friend carefully. He was still standing on the same spot Gibbs had left him, and was now crumpling his jacket in both hands, dirtying it with the dried blood. "Tony, what happened?"

Abby stood next to them and had tears in her eyes. She was fidgeting, not knowing what to do. She wanted to embrace Tony but was afraid to do anything in case she'd only make it worse. Tony looked at her and then at Tim, although his eyes were glazed and he really couldn't see them.

He was lost in thoughts.

Then his head snapped up sharply and he pointed somewhere behind them. "Oh my God!" he cried out and they both turned around abruptly.

There was nothing.

McGee looked back immediately but Tony was gone. He cursed and ran to the front door. On the way, he bumped into a huge man.

"Hey! Watch where ya going!" The man growled and stepped right before him, blocking him.

"Get out of the way," Tim snapped and wanted to walk around him.

The man didn't let him. "Not good enough."

McGee took out his badge and shoved it in the guy's face. "Federal agent. Now is that good enough?"

The man raised his hands and smiled apologetically. "Sorry buddy," he said and headed off.

Forcing his way through the crowd, Tim finally stepped onto the night street. He tried to find Tony's car, but it was useless.

He was gone.

Tim scolded himself for his own stupidity. Gibbs was gonna kill him.

* * *

Gibbs threw the door open and stepped out onto the street. He spotted immediately what he'd feared he would find.

He went to the dead lying figure beside the brick wall and knelt to it. Kate stayed in front of the back door, not able to move. She was covering her mouth with a hand.

Ducky came to him and leaned down, examining Steve gently.

His nod confirmed it. He didn't know what to say.

Gibbs, on the other hand, knew. "What the hell happened?" He glanced around in one quick motion but couldn't see anything suspicious or abnormal. Standing up, he turned to his companions. "Kate, secure this as a crime scene. Ducky, stay here with her and look over…" He looked down at Steve, "the body."

They both nodded and he made his way back into the bar. He had lots of questions that needed answers and there was only one person who could do that.

First, he'd have to find him, though. He took in his surroundings, trying to locate their table again. It was hard. Everything in this bar seemed alike and he couldn't see over the tons of people that were enclosing him, seemingly ignorant of his death stares.

"DiNozzo," he bellowed, trying to be heard over the loud music. He was getting more frustrated every minute he spent at this place.

A few people nearest him started up in surprise.

He pushed through them and after a while, he finally found their table.

However, the only one who greeted him there was Abby. "Gibbs," she went to him. "Is Steve-" Her voice trembled and she looked terrified.

"Yeah," was all he could get out. "Where're DiNozzo and McGee?" he asked, ignoring the tears that started running down her face.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, so he barely heard her.

"Where are they?" Gibbs barked and Abby flinched at his tone. He looked at her apologetically. He didn't mean to be harsh with her but he really needed to speak with Tony.

"Boss." It was McGee. He suddenly appeared behind him, looking rather distressed, like he was awaiting the end of the world… which would come for him if he didn't explain where he'd left DiNozzo.

"Where the hell-" he started but McGee was quicker.

"He ran away."

Gibbs pulled himself to his full height and stepped toe to toe with him. He wasn't as tall as McGee but the agent shrank down due to his glare, so Gibbs had an advantage.

"What?"

McGee stepped away from him nervously. "Sorry boss, he-he fooled us… and- he got his car and…"

Gibbs glared at him one more time and then turned to go outside. When no one followed, he shouted over his shoulder. "What are you waiting for?"

They immediately jumped into action and ran after him.

* * *

Tony was driving in his car. He had only one goal in his mind and that was the NCIS. He didn't know, didn't care either, what would happen after that; what was he going to do.

No one had ever prepared him for this and therefore, he did what he thought should be done. It didn't have to be the best solution but it was his way to deal with it.

It didn't need to make any sense.

The cellphone in his jacket started ringing but he ignored it.

He parked his car before the building and went inside on his own. In the hall was standing a night guard.

"Hey, Tony. Wh-" the man stopped when he took in his appearance. "What the hell happened?"

"New case," Tony shrugged and headed straight for the elevator, not giving the guard a single glance.

To get rid of McGee and Abby had drained everything from him. He'd seen it in lots of movies. People there used those sort of things as distractions so they could get away. And surprisingly enough, it had worked.

Only, he hadn't anticipated the amount of energy that it would cost him.

He was walking just thanks to his willpower.

It would be so nice to lie down and get some rest. To close his eyes and make the world around him vanish.

When he got into the elevator and let the door close behind him, he rested his head against the wall, taking a deep breath. The silence here was odd in contrast to the loud bar.

Strangely, it was more deafening than the thundering music.

He gripped the hand rail. The sorrow and exhaustion that were overwhelming his mind and body got mixed with guilt. If he hadn't taken Steve out, nothing bad would have happened.

His hands hurt from the firm holding. He eased the grip and sank down onto the floor, resting his back against the elevator's corner.

Maybe it would have happened even if they'd stayed inside.

He'd never know now, though. He had made the move as well as the other part. Their paths were now chosen and couldn't be taken back.

But it was wrong, it was so wrong and he should get the chance to take everything back.

He closed his eyes before another tears would fall down. That wouldn't help him.

Although… what would help?

He pulled his knees to him and laid his head on them.

He'd come here for a reason. He'd wanted to verify that the man was really Chris. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he already knew the answer but still – knowing was one thing and seeing was another one. He had been so determined to come here and actually look into Chris' records… and now, he was hiding in the elevator and didn't want it to move.

He wanted the elevator to stop forever and never let anyone in.

It didn't solve anything and yet, he couldn't force his body to move.

Maybe, it was for the best. If he stayed here, he wouldn't have to deal with anything. He would let it pass him by indifferently.

* * *

Gibbs stormed into the hall with Abby and McGee right behind him. He hoped Tony didn't change his previous plan to 'get to the work' and headed elsewhere. He hadn't picked up his phone when Gibbs called him, so they'd need to trace him down if he wasn't here and that would take time.

Time neither of them could afford.

The night guard looked up and gulped. Gibbs had a feeling he should know his name but couldn't recall it. And honestly, he didn't care.

"Uh… G-good evening," the young man stuttered. He looked terrified.

Gibbs couldn't blame him. The intense anger that was radiating from his body was enough even for him to handle. "Don't call me sir," he growled and the guard jumped up a little. He didn't have time for that. "Is DiNozzo here?"

"I'm sorry, sir? Uh… agent Gibbs?"

Gibbs came closer to the poor man. "Did I not make myself clear?"

The guard let out a strangled moan. "N-no, s… agent Gibbs. You asked about Tony- agent DiNozzo."

Gibbs waited for a second but nothing came. He decided to go upstairs and see for himself when McGee appeared beside him. "Is he here, Mark?" he addressed the guard.

Mark. That was it.

The man looked at McGee with grateful eyes and then glanced toward the elevator. "Uh, he went there about five minutes ago but didn't set the elevator in motion... I didn't know if I should go there, but he looked… kind of freaked out and I wasn't sure-"

"That's alright," McGee stopped him.

He and Abby looked at Gibbs with anticipation.

"Wait here," Gibbs told them and tried to soothe all the emotions that were mingling inside him.

He went slowly to the elevator and braced himself.

* * *

_"Teach me how to play."_  
_  
"How to play what?"_

_"Chess. I want to get better."_

_A small smile on lips. "Why?"_

_"So I can win."_

The door opened. Gibbs was standing there, looking at him with sympathetic eyes. It made Tony cringe inside. His boss never looked at him like that.

"Hey," he said softly.

Tony flinched slightly. The tone was wrong. It should have never been aimed at him.

"Hey, boss," he replied in a whisper.

Gibbs stepped into the elevator and pushed the button to close the door. Sitting down cautiously next to Tony, he waited for a while. He was choosing his actions carefully. It seemed like he didn't want to do anything harsh or that would make him feel uncomfortable.

For that, Tony was grateful.

Although, he would be more grateful if Gibbs had let him be and hadn't brought all the problems to him again. That meant he had to face reality and he wasn't sure if he'd ever be prepared for that.

"I'm sorry I ran away," he said after a long silence.

Gibbs reacted immediately. "Don't apologize."

"It's a sign of weakness." A tear threatened to fall down. He swallowed the pain and grasped his knees more tightly. "Steve thought that it was all nonsense," he said quietly.

Gibbs smirked. "That wouldn't surprise me."

A spark of energy flew through Tony's veins.

"I should have listened to him." He wanted his boss to understand what had happened. "I should talk to him and listen to him. He's always right… and I should have stayed with him inside the bar and I should-"

"That's a lot of shoulds," Gibbs remarked. "You couldn't know what would happen."

"I could," Tony rasped out. "I met him this morning and Steve had told me to be more careful… he warned me- I should have told him…"

He turned to his boss, desperately needing to explain why everything had ended up so badly. He couldn't take enough air into his lungs but that didn't stop him. "It's my fault… if I hadn't joined them- if I hadn't been so stupid-"

Gibbs said his name and was looking at him with worry in his eyes but that was unimportant. Everything was unimportant but the need to explain.

Tony took a shallow breath and continued, using the last bits of energy that remained. "It hadn't even helped, it'd made everything worse- and he'd disowned me and I should have been happy 'cause it's all I'd ever wanted but it didn't make me feel better. It'd felt terrible…" His vision blurred, so he focused on the blue of Gibbs' eyes. They were the only things that he was able to see clearly.

"Actually, it was his first time to show any emotion to me," he choked on his words in an attempt to chuckle but carried on stubbornly. "Want to know what it was? Disappointment… or regret – I go back and forth… but in the end, it's the same." It became really hard to breathe and he felt a tear running down his cheek. He didn't care. "Steve helped me… and this is his reward."

Gibbs barked his name again but Tony didn't pay any attention to it. He wanted to say more but when he opened his mouth, nothing came out. He couldn't form a single word and his breathing became shallower. He tried to inhale but his body refused to obey him.

"Tony." Gibbs' voice seemed panicked but that was surely just his imagination. "DiNozzo!"

A hand smacked the back of his head. Surprisingly, it helped him focus a little more. Then the hand made his head gently lower down between his knees.

"Come on… now, take a deep breath."

Tony did as he was told immediately. It wasn't easy but slowly, his mind emptied and let all the problems out. Nothing was left; nothing but Gibbs' strangely soft voice and the touch of his hand.

"You're doing great," his boss praised him.

Tony wanted to lift his head up but the hand didn't allow him to move a bit.

"Don't hurry," Gibbs said. "Take your time."

So he did. He focused solely on the air he was breathing and on the hand that was still placed on his head. It was warm and held him together.

He closed his eyes.

_"Your teacher told me she'd seen you hanging around with the young Jenkins, Richard and Thompson boys."_

_"You were in my school?" Tony asked, surprised. "Personally?"_

_His father looked away._

_Of course not. Why would he do that anyway? Why would he bother himself personally with his son's problems?_

_"I do not wish you see them again. These kids are criminals and have brought only disgrace to their families," DiNozzo Senior stated firmly._

_It went as he'd wanted. Tony crossed his arms over his chest and stared at his father defiantly. "You forbid me?"_

_He wasn't sure where the self-confidence came from, but he was glad for it. Maybe it was a result of the time spent with his new friends. It taught him to believe in his abilities and to realize that the adults were secretly just grown up cowards._

_DiNozzo's posture stiffened. He leaned forward. "Yes, I forbid you," he said in a low voice._

_Tony grinned despite being tense inside. "What if I don't give a damn?"_

_His father stood up angrily. He maneuvered round the massive oak table and came to stand right in front of him. "Don't talk to me like that in my own house!"_

_Tony backed away. Maybe he'd crossed some imaginary line._

_He waited but nothing else happened._

_He raised his head cautiously. His father was standing in the middle of the room and heaving, evidently not knowing what to do. His only son had defied him for the first time and he didn't know how to react. He was here alone without help from someone else and didn't know how to deal with it._

_He looked pathetic._

_Tony smiled sadly._

_Chris was right. No lines existed here._

_"I'm out," he said and exited the office, letting his father bathe in his own desperation._

_Right before the entrance, he collided into Paul. He'd had to hear his father shouting and came to look what had happened. Tony froze and waited anxiously, not daring to move._

_This was the first time he was alone with the man._

_Tony could still hear the shouts in his head and feel the hands as they beat him. During the nights, he would wake up trembling and covered in his own sweat. He would try to sleep again and calm down, to forget about it, but it would be pointless._

_It wasn't meant to be forgotten._

_Paul opened his mouth but closed it again. He scrutinized him with a cold look, hatred in his eyes. "I apologize. I should have been paying attention to where I was going."_

_Tony's eyes widened in surprise. He knew Chris had had a talk with him but he didn't expect such reversal. It was weird but… somehow freeing._

_He didn't have to be afraid of him or his father anymore because he was now untouchable._

_The last line ceased to exist._

_"Fine," he said and stepped out of the house._

_He could do anything he'd ever wanted and more, and no one would stop him. He'd never experience this feeling but now that he got to know it, he planned to hold onto it._

_He smiled and drew in the fresh, autumn air. He loved the feeling of water hanging in the air._

* * *

Gibbs was patiently waiting for Tony to calm down, while he himself struggled with his own feelings.

He felt helpless.

It was normal and a part of his job to tell the families that their beloved had died. He was used to the waiting while they tried to cope with the grief and not to break down before him.

He always gave them their needed time and that was the end of it. After the door closed behind his back, he focused on the job.

That was his way to help them.

After all, they were strangers and although, the deaths made him sick and sad, they had nothing to do with him.

This was different. This was Tony and right now he had to at least try to comfort him. Tony was too important to be left alone so he'd be forced to overcome the sadness all by himself.

Gibbs wanted to help him, desperately, but wasn't sure what to do. Should he wait for Tony to start speaking? Should he say some words of consolation? No, that wasn't his style. He wouldn't find the right words even if he tried.

He liked action. These kinds of situation where you couldn't afford to pause and think. Where you had to react immediately or otherwise, you'd get killed.

He unconsciously caressed the soft hair under his touch.

He wasn't good at this. Why hadn't he sent Abby here, instead? She was more talkative and way better with expressing emotions. She would be more suitable and helpful.

"Boss?"

"Hm?"

He allowed Tony to raise his head. The agent looked up at him with bright eyes, expression of determination on his face. "I want to find him, boss."

"The man from this morning?" Gibbs asked.

Tony stilled, surprised.

"I don't talk much but I can still listen, and I heard what you'd said. It was chaotic but gave me some picture," he explained.

Tony smiled weakly. "Like that I know the attacker."

"Like that you know the attacker."

Silence set in.

Gibbs stood up slowly and offered Tony a hand to help him up. "Ready to go?"

Tony watched the hand. It was obvious his mind screamed at him to run away again. Gibbs gave him time, ready to intervene.

Tony closed his eyes momentarily and then, he took the hand. "No," he said honestly, "but I'll never be, so it doesn't matter anyway."

* * *

"That was excellent!" Ricky proclaimed. He was grinning from ear to ear and was fidgeting due to the adrenalin.

Chris ignored him, pacing back and forth. He should be pleased by the result. He should be delighted, but something was wrong. Something kept bugging him.

"Did you see his expression? Oh my God! It was so fucking awesome!" Ricky started laughing and bended over in an attempt to calm down.

Chris looked at his other mates. They seemed happy.

It had all gone as planned, after all. He should be happy too.

"And when he crawled to him and was all like-"

"Would you shut up?!" Chris shouted and Ricky closed his mouth immediately, looking at him with a hurt expression.

Chris scowled and begun pacing again.

"What's wrong?" Tom asked.

He looked at his friend. "Don't know, but it just…" He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand in effort to find the right words. "I thought I'd feel better but- something's missing and…"

Raising his head and focusing on his friends, he finally found the words. That was the problem. That was why he didn't feel as good as he should.

"It wasn't enough."

Tom narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean it wasn't enough?"

"Like I said!" Chris took a deep breath, finally getting more excited. Now that he knew… "It wasn't enough. It was too fast, too sudden- it was-"

"Fast?" Alan folded his arms. "I shot the guy just right so he wouldn't die right on the spot! I did exactly what you'd wanted me to do."

Chris turned his back to them. They didn't get it. "No," he said firmly, "it wasn't enough. I want to destroy him but I wanna watch as it happens. I wanna be there and see in person how desperate he can get."

"I don't know, Chris," Tom started. "Well, you can always count on me but this doesn't sound easy and I think you're getting too…" He paused and looked down.

"Too what?"

"Obsessed," Ed said.

Tom shot him a glare. "Involved."

Chris grit his teeth. It might have been the truth but did it matter that much? Why was it so hard for them to understand that he honestly didn't care? That he meant everything he'd said that night?

He knew he was digging his own grave but he didn't give a damn.

He'd died a long time ago. It was only natural that he wanted this dream, this nightmare, to end. And he wanted it to end as he desired.

"I need to think up something better." He squatted down and everyone got quiet, waiting for him to say something.

He played all the possible scenarios in his mind but couldn't find the one that would actually satisfy him. Every one of them was too simple and ended too fast.

He had to find something… something that would devastate the bastard, destroy him… but first that would make him go nuts… that would unnerve him and then crash him; one that would be perfect.

He remembered the one time he'd played chess with Anthony. That time, it had been just for fun so he hadn't really thought about it, but now he could clearly see how desperate and angry Tony had got with every move toward his defeat. He had known he was going to lose but hadn't given up 'till the end of the game. He'd soaked in the crushing inability to win and got so angry his eyes had sparkled with the emotion.

It had been perfect.

Chris looked up at his friends and grinned. "I've got something great."

* * *

**REVIEWS! ...Please? They're really addictive :D And also - if you wish for something (specific scene, etc.) to appear in the story, write me and I'll see what I can do about it - I have the plot planned but that doesn't mean I can't add things in it ;)**


	7. Chapter 7

**Thanks to all of you who always make time for this story and to TwoSexySombreros for her work :)**

* * *

**Chapter Seven: The Weaknesses (Part Two)**

He was tired. It felt like he hadn't slept in days.

When the elevator door to the bullpen opened, he was able to step out without tripping over only due to years of practice. He was able to get to his table just because he knew the way inch by inch and could make it with both eyes closed.

It was only thanks to his willpower that he didn't turn around and run away; that he took every step toward his table and sat down, waiting patiently for McGee and Abby to come.

Gibbs had called them. He told him and Abby to go here.

They had to opt for the steps because Tony had needed a long time to pull himself together.

It was all because of him.

He tried not to think about it, though.

Still, it was hard and tiring. He didn't want to show any of the emotions he felt and it drained the energy from his body.

How long did it take for a person to stop thinking about death and to start living again?

The memories after his mother had died were vague. The only recollection that held stubbornly onto his mind was the one of an open mahogany coffin, people in black and the stoic expression of his father.

Come to think of it, he didn't even know half of the people that had attended his mother's funeral.

"Tony."

That was Gibbs' voice. He used his first name again. It was unusual.

He raised his head just in time to see McGee and Abby emerging from the staircase door. They didn't look at him first but when they neared him and Gibbs, Abby couldn't take it anymore.

Tony noticed her eyes were red rimmed.

She hugged him tightly. "I'm so sorry," she whispered in his ear.

Tony closed his eyes and waited motionlessly 'till she moved away. He dared to breathe only after that.

McGee muttered something softly but Tony didn't really listen to him, neither did he respond. He looked at Gibbs.

"So," his boss seemed to understand, "fill us in."

Tony studied his hands for a moment. He hadn't cleaned them yet. Maybe he should do that first.

"Tony," Gibbs said again.

Right, he was supposed to tell them. He stopped occupying himself with his hands. "Christopher Jenkins."

Gibbs turned to McGee who jumped to his table and typed the name. Abby stood awkwardly on the same spot and rubbed her own hands.

A photo came out on the plasma screen.

"Is he the attacker?"

Gibbs asked him a question, so Tony should answer it. First, he had to look at the screen.

Was it possible to get away? Could he stand up and run outside; ignore the whole world?

Taking a deep breath, he turned his head. He wasn't surprised when his eyes met with the man from that morning and night.

Even though he wasn't surprised, he wasn't prepared for it either. His insides clenched and he had to tear his gaze away. "Yeah, it's him."

"McGee," Gibbs prompted and Tim started reading the file, scanning it briefly with his eyes, while talking to them.

"Christopher Jenkins, son of Richard Jenkins and Stefanie Bell. His father is a shareholder of a corporation and wow…" He looked up. "The guy's loaded, Gibbs… only," he turned his attention back to the file. "Well, would be – his father disowned him when he was eighteen. He was sentenced twenty years for a homicide, attempted robbery and a weapons offense." He stopped and studied the information for a moment. "They didn't go easy on him. It wasn't the first time he broke the law but everything before had been brushed aside thanks to his dad. However with this one, he was left on his own and disowned afterwards…"

Tony supported his head. He didn't listen to whatever McGee was saying. He already knew all of it. He also knew that his name wouldn't appear in the files. That was his father's last favor for him.

Right before he sent him away.

It was inevitable and he should have known from the beginning that it wouldn't end differently. It was meant to result like that from the very start.

Yet, it had hurt nonetheless.

"DiNozzo."

He turned slowly in the direction of his boss' voice. It seemed urgent. Gibbs had to call his name more than once.

They were looking at him with worry. He'd stopped paying attention to them.

Gibbs sighed. "Ducky will be here any moment. He'll check you."

Tony stayed silent. After all, it wasn't a suggestion, it was an order and he wouldn't get any say in it.

When no reaction came, Gibbs refocused on McGee. "Print everything you can find for me."

* * *

_"Where have you been?" His father came closer to him but Chris stood his ground. _

_He'd learned how to respond when his old man was in this kind of mood a long time ago. First thing was not to step back, ever. _

_"Why?"_

_That was a mistake. He didn't realize it wasn't helpful asking questions either. _

_His father smacked him across the face. "You think you can use my money like some parasite and ignore me?"_

_This one, he knew. The basic rule lied in apologizing for everything, even if he had no idea what for._

_"I'm sorry, dad."_

_His father smiled mockingly. "Sure you are. It's the only thing you're good at. Apologizing."_

_Now, in this part, he had to swallow every bitter word he wanted to scream at this man. It would do no good. In that case, it would only make things worse._

_"Sit down." His father motioned to the chair and Chris did what he was told immediately and without questions. That would get him to repeat his mistake again._

_He couldn't help himself but think about what Tony had said. He'd defied his father and the man let him go without a punishment._

_Could he do that as well? He'd never tried it. He gave advice to every friend he had but it never actually occurred to him that he could help himself as well._

_His father paced before him. "Were you at your French class?" _

_What would happen if he tried?_

_"Yes."_

_Could it free him as well?_

_"Spanish?"_

_Was it possible that his father only waited for his son to man up and stand up against him?_

_"Yes."_

_To show him that he no longer deserved the punches and was finally prepared for the cruel world?_

_„Did you read the books I gave you?"_

_To cross the line…_

_"No."_

_His father stopped. "Excuse me?"_

_His heart was pounding. If this worked, it would mean that all the beatings weren't just meaningless acts. That they were to help him strengthen and grow up, that his father liked him somewhere deep inside._

_"I said no. I- I don't need it... I'm old enough to choose what to read. I don't need you to pick up books and classes for me." He managed to keep the voice firm._

_His father smiled and Chris felt light-headed. Did it work?_

_A punch sent him off the chair and onto the wooden floor. He grazed his arm as he tried to lift up but his father's foot pushed him down again. "You think I care about what you want or what you think?"_

_The pressure from the foot increased. "You should be grateful that I'm keeping you here. That I didn't throw you out when I found out about your night activities." His father talked calmly, with a cold precision and without emotions. It hurt more than the blows. "That I spent a huge amount of my fortune so you wouldn't be kicked out of that damn school."_

_Chris lay motionlessly on the floor. His hand itched to grip the foot on him but he didn't move it. He resigned and waited, his mind shutting down. If this all wasn't for him to grow up and learn to defend himself, then what was it for? _

_What was the point when it didn't have any purpose? Did his father hate him so much?_

_"Stand up."_

_The pressure eased and then vanished. He stood on shaky legs and straightened up, looking his father in the eyes._

_A punch sent him to the ground._

_"Stand up!"_

_Chris lifted his body up with an effort, only to be knocked down._

_"Again," his father said coolly._

_Everything he'd ever done was to get any kind of attention from the man before him. He'd always hoped that the beatings were for his own good and that his father cared about him. _

_He was so wrong._

_Chris stood up and a moment later he found himself on the floor again, coughing. "I'm sorry," he tried but it didn't help._

_"Again!"_

_It had only started._

Chris' eyes shot open as he woke up.

Running a hand over his sweaty face, he rolled on the side. He hadn't dreamt about that night for a long time.

What he was doing brought the memories back to him again. He couldn't stop thinking about what would change if he'd done something differently.

If he hadn't ended up in jail, how would his life look like? Maybe he'd have a family, a job… children. He'd raise them with care and he would never leave them alone. He would never lay a hand on them.

That wasn't right, parents should never do that.

He closed his eyes and sighed.

It was useless to think about past. It wouldn't help. He'd lost his chance for a proper life in the moment the cell door closed behind his back. After twenty years spent in there, his life was over. No one would give him a second chance and people looked down on him.

He didn't blame them. He became a murderer and he would always stay one. The only thing he could do now was to get as much as he could from the situation and enjoy his few remaining days.

Before he came to D.C., he'd tried to think up something else to do with his life but there was nothing. Nothing that would satisfy him and that would be viable.

Destroying the life of a person that was, in his opinion, responsible for his imprisonment seemed on the other hand like a perfect distraction.

* * *

"He's fine, Jethro, bruised but otherwise healthful. The only thing he needs is a good rest," Ducky said.

Gibbs waited for DiNozzo's 'I told you so.' but it didn't come. The only thing Tony had done the whole time was sit obediently and stare into blank space.

At least he had been able to wash his hands to get rid of the blood on them.

Gibbs had previously wanted to ask further questions but now, as he watched his agent, he changed his mind.

He stood up in front of Tony and finally got his attention. "You're going with me."

Tony slid off the table without so much as a word and headed for the door.

Gibbs exchanged a worried glance with Ducky and sighed. "When Kate arrives, tell her to take everything to Abby's lab and go home. The same applies for you too," he said. "This… case will wait till tomorrow. Just make sure Steve's body gets here safely, okay? I'll talk to the director so NCIS could take this over from the LEO's."

Ducky nodded. "Do that, Jethro. And make sure the boy eats something." He looked over at the door, through which Tony had vanished from their sight.

Gibbs said nothing and made his way through the door as well. He met Tony at the elevator, leaning against a wall. "Where we going?" he asked absently.

Gibbs pushed the elevator button and the door opened. "My house."

* * *

Kate was done talking to the police officer who was in charge - for now. She was sure Gibbs would never let the local police investigate this murder. It was only a matter of time until they got call from the director to hand the case over to NCIS.

She was glad for it. She wanted to find the bastard who'd done this.

She teased Tony, she argued with him and barely took him seriously, but she liked him, a lot. He was a friend, a brother to her.

Someone had hurt him and she would not let it go.

* * *

"Sit."

He sat down. A plate with a toast was placed before him.

"Eat."

He hesitated.

"Don't make me repeat it," Gibbs said and seated himself on the other side of the kitchen table.

Tony eyed the toast and then, finally resigning, he took a bite. It would serve no purpose to argue with his boss. Besides, he didn't have any energy spared for that either.

Gibbs observed him quietly without words.

It unnerved him. He knew he didn't have any other chance than to spill everything out.

However, it was the one thing he didn't want to do.

Biting off another piece of toast, he looked at his boss. "Eh… I think maybe I should go sleep…"

Gibbs said nothing but his posture stiffened. Tony continued. "You know, to get some rest, like Ducky said…" He glanced sideways and tried to find an escape. "We can- y'know, talk tomorrow… right?"

"You think you can put it off?" Gibbs' eyes narrowed as he scrutinized him closely.

No.

"Maybe?" he smiled widely.

"Stop it," Gibbs growled and he obeyed, getting rid of the fake smile in a second.

He looked down at his now clean hands. They were grazed from the rough way he'd scrubbed them at work.

It didn't matter.

He raised his head and found Gibbs' eyes with his. He really had no other choice.

Taking a deep breath, he said, "When I was twelve, father's secretary gave me a little thrashing." It was the first memory that came to his mind and to think of it, it was a reason why everything else had happened.

Gibbs leaned forward but otherwise stayed calm; at least on the surface. Tony could read him like an open book, so he knew exactly what was going on in his boss' mind. The man was surprised by the start and by what it told him. However, the surprise quickly turned into anger.

He should better talk faster and move to other things before Gibbs exploded.

"I was angry," he started but then paused. "No, that's not right… I was hurt – not just physically but mentally as well." He looked down again.

Gibbs clenched his fist and moved it under the table.

"I was hurt and defeated," Tony continued. "You see, my father never really cared for me, but at least I thought he'd get rid of that man or… I don't know, I just thought he'd do something, anything… Well, he did," he chuckled slightly, remembering the memory. "He practically told me to be quiet about it. He came to the hospital and told me to shut my mouth."

He played with the rest of the toast for a moment, tearing small bits of it. "It's just… parents are supposed to protect you, right?" He gazed at Gibbs, wanting to get a confirmation.

A shadow crossed his boss' eyes. "Yeah," he rasped.

Tony studied the slightly pale shade of his face but decided to leave it. He knew he'd get no answers.

"Anyway," he turned his attention back to the toast, "that was the night before I met Chris. Well, to be precise, I paid a visit to him. He was something like a leader of the small gang our school had. I bet you can imagine it – almost every school has them."

He smiled slightly. This short period of his life wasn't that bad. In fact, it was the best time of his whole childhood. "They're the cool kids that can do whatever they want. They steal things and smash other people's property and so on, but no one punishes them 'cause they have money…"

"I'd beat the crap out of them if I were at a school like this," Gibbs stated, seeing the small but honest smile tugging Tony's lips. It irritated him.

Tony chuckled nervously. "Sure… well, I joined them."

Gibbs sat back in the chair.

Tony abandoned the toast and leaned forward, wanting his boss to understand; he had a feeling he did that often in this one day. "Look, I was stupid. I wanted to hurt my father. He was more interested in his name than his son, so I wanted to destroy it and throw it right into his face." He rubbed his hands together nervously.

The talking was uncomfortable but at least it helped him focus. He didn't need to think about previous events because his mind was busy with forming coherent sentences.

"I didn't even get to do something," he continued quickly. "Most of the time, I just hung around, ignoring every rumor that was going around the school about them… and it didn't last long. For about four months. Then Chris came one day and… uh, I don't know, he looked really bad and he said that we should have some fun… He asked me if I wanted to come, so I said yes, sure – why not? I wasn't certain I wanted to go but those guys helped me a lot and became like something close to a family, which I really needed at that time… so I agreed. Guess I didn't want to disappoint them."

Tony sighed, once again cursing his idiocy as a kid. The weird part was that when he was a child, everything he'd done made a perfect sense to him.

Now, he couldn't remember how.

He could think of the cause and effect, but he wasn't able to understand the connection anymore.

"The rest is in the file McGee printed out. You should read it first. It's a blur in my head so I may have some things mixed up. It happened really fast."

"You mean the bank robbery?" Gibbs asked.

He nodded. "Yeah, well – an attempt. Chris didn't get to do anything else beside killing a person." Closing his eyes, he tried to chase away a picture of a bleeding woman on a floor. That brought a picture of Steve lying on the ground and staring into the night sky.

His body shivered. "That's everything," he said, concentrating on talking again.

"Don't think so," Gibbs opposed.

Tony ran a hand over his face. "Can we do the rest tomorrow?"

Or hopefully never?

Gibbs seemed to hesitate but then, he agreed at last. "I just have one question," he said.

Tony breathed a sigh of relief. "Shoot."

Gibbs leaned forward so they were mere inches from each other. "The secretary you talked about."

Tony tensed. "What's with him?"

"That's what I wanna know."

Tony forced his eyes not to look away and soothed all the emotions from his face. "He still works for father. After my dad dies, he's gonna inherit the major part of the business... His hard work paid off…" he added bitterly.

* * *

Gibbs stayed in the kitchen after Tony had gone upstairs so he could take a proper shower.

What he'd heard today and what had happened was… well, to say the least, it was unexpected. He would never imagine that Tony would hide something like that. It was…

He pinched the bridge of his nose to stop the upcoming headache.

He thought he knew his agents well; he thought he knew Tony well and apparently, he was wrong.

First, the sudden arrival of Steve Ward, who claimed he'd been closer to Tony than any of them, then his equally sudden death.

The fact that, according to Tony, Steve was murdered by Christopher Jenkins whom his agent knew from childhood.

And it was only getting started. Tony had been abused as a child at least once. He didn't elaborate but Gibbs would make sure not to let it be. Something like that was unforgivable. He couldn't imagine how someone gifted with a child could hurt them or allow anyone else to do it. If someone laid a hand on Kelly when she was small, he'd kill them. To lose her and Shannon was the worst thing that ever happened in his life.

He sighed and opened the file he'd taken from McGee at work.

Fortunately, when his wife and daughter had been alive, they knew he was there to protect them. Tony had none of that. Based on what he learned today, Tony had been alone as a kid. He had no one he could depend on and had to take care of himself.

No wonder it all ended up like that. Children didn't think like adults. They did what they considered was best for them and didn't see the future results.

That was what parents should do for them. They should love them and protect them, not drive them into doing something stupid and desperate.

And making friends with kids from whom half of them certainly became criminals was a very desperate act.

He heard the running water from upstairs. Reading through the file, he was frowning more and more.

He tuned out the world around him and focused solely on the text. He couldn't find Tony's name but he could guess his agent would be the anonymous number two. There were five kids that were ordered not to be named due to some crap about protection. According to the police report, they were only victims that were forced to anticipate.

Clearly, their wealthy parents didn't wish their names to be figuring in the file.

The water stopped and was replaced by footsteps. He directed his attention to the file again.

So, eight kids got to the small local bank and one of them took out a gun. That would be Jenkins. After twenty minutes, the police arrived and enclosed them. Then something happened and Jenkins shot a young office worker. The woman was dead in seconds.

Gibbs frowned. The report was too stark for his liking and it didn't even provide the basic facts. All it described after that was the door for police opened and everyone was arrested.

The footsteps became louder and quicker, thundering down the stairs.

Basically, he didn't need to know the rest, but his mind craved to find out more. He wanted to learn everything that had happened that day.

Tony rushed into the kitchen, his hair still wet and dripping water all over the floor. He was pale and shaking.

Gibbs jumped up and helped him sit down, leaving the file on the table. "What happened?"

Tony looked at him. "I- I forgot to tell them."

Gibbs knelt down. "What're you talking about?"

"I have to call Carol - his wife- tell her and Lynette that Steve's dead. That he died because of me." He ran a hand through his hair. It came out with droplets of water attached to it. "I can't do that, boss." His eyes begged Gibbs for help. "I can't tell them that he's dead because of me."

"He is dead because that bastard killed him, not because of you," Gibbs said harshly. Tony gripped tightly his sweatpants. He didn't need this tone. "Do you want me to call them?" Gibbs asked more gently, trying to soothe down his voice.

Tony eased the grip and calmed down a little. He seemed to snap back to reality. "No, that's fine." Standing up slowly, he added more firmly, "I have to do that. It should be me." He nodded to himself in assurance.

Gibbs followed his steps with his eyes, until Tony vanished through the kitchen door. He stayed kneeling on the floor and rubbed his eyes.

What should he do?

* * *

Tony stood in the middle of the guest room and stared at the phone in his hand. Could he do it? He knelt down on the soft carpet, running through the threads gently with his other hand.

He dialed the familiar number and closed his eyes.

"Hello?"

He gripped the threads tightly. "Uh, hey. It's me," he said and was glad his voice didn't waver.

"Oh, Tony. Sorry, I didn't look at the display. How are you? And Steve? He didn't call me yesterday but I didn't want to bother you two with a worrying woman." He could see her smiling. Carol was a good person and always made him feel like he was home.

"I-" he started but didn't know how to continue. He wanted to end the call, to throw the phone against a wall and watch it smash and fall down.

"What's wrong?" Carol asked, abandoning the cheerful tone.

Should he say it straight away or try to prepare her first? He didn't know any way to prepare someone before telling them that their beloved died. To his comprehension, it couldn't be even possible.

That left only one choice.

"Tony, is something wrong?" Carol's voice was urgent. She felt something was off. She could always tell.

"Steve's dead," he said quickly.

Silence.

He rested his weight on the stretched hand. Maybe, he should have tried to prepare her first somehow, anyhow.

"What- what are you talking about?" Her voice was shaking and heartbreaking. The despair in it went right through him.

"I'm really sorry. I- we went in a bar and they appeared and one of them shot him-" He took a breath to calm down and paused. "I'm sorry."

The cellphone started beeping as she hung up.

Tony was again tempted to throw the phone against the wall but instead, he placed it slowly on the carpet beside him.

He laid his head down and focused on the breathing.

He'd kill Chris for this.

* * *

Chris appeared with a paper sheet in his hand and an angry expression on the face.

Ricky smirked. "Bad night, huh?"

Chris walked around him. "You have no idea," he hissed and slammed the front door behind his back.

He stepped out onto the street and inhaled deeply. Fucking night. It made him think about past, it made him weak.

Would his life be different if he'd chosen another path?

Who the fuck cared? His life was how it was, and examining it would do no good. It made matters worse.

He folded the paper in his hand and grinned to himself. The things he'd learnt as a kid were now at least useful, although, he would never imagined he'd use them for this purpose.

He would use them to finish this game with elegance and grace. That was how his and Anthony's final parts should end.

He couldn't help himself but laugh at the thought that he'd probably make his father finally proud. He'd learnt how to react at the cruel world around him - with the same amount of cruelty.

He set out, gripping the paper and creasing it.

On the contrary of that day, he had this one plotted so it should go as he wanted.

_The heavy drops of rain were falling onto his eyelids and trickled down his cheeks. He blinked several times to force the water out of his eyes and spat it from his mouth as well. He didn't slow down and went right through the puddles quickly forming on the path instead of walking around them. His shoes were soaked and his body shivered from the cold that still remained it the air, reminding everyone of the long winter that had just left them._

_He strode into the gym and didn't stop till he got to the corner where his bag with important things was placed. He ignored the curious looks his friends were giving him._

_"Hey Chris, what happened?" Ricky observed the bruises forming on Chris' face, continuing down under his shirt._

_Tony looked up and frowned. "Something's wrong?" He was playing chess with Tom and was once again losing, judging by his sour expression._

_Chris turned to them, flinging the bag over his shoulder. Six heads snapped up in attention and waited for his words. "I'm getting bored," he said and the heads nodded in agreement. Tony stared at him quietly. _

_"Let's have some fun!"_

_His friends cheered and jumped up. Tom packed the chess hastily, ignoring Tony's protests and was the first one out of the door. _

_Chris stepped to Tony. "You were going to lose anyway," he remarked._

_Tony cocked his head. "You didn't even look at the board."_

_"I did when I came in." He winked at Tony's befuddled look._

_"How did you-"_

_Chris cut him off. "You going too? It'd be your first time, so if you don't wanna go…"_

_"No, that's fine," Tony stated firmly, although his voice seemed uncertain. "I want to go."_

_Chris ruffled his hair. "Great." _

_He smiled. It faltered for a second when a picture of a wooden floor flashed before his eyes but immediately regained his posture._

_Tony looked at him more closely. "You sure, you're feeling well? The bruises-"_

_"'m fine!" Chris snapped. "Just… let's go."_


	8. Chapter 8

**I'm really sorry for the delay, but you know - work, work, work :D I'm not also sure when I'll be able to write the next chapter because we have an examination period in January (that for example means that I have to make about 12 paintings and drawings in six days :D My advice? Don't leave things until the last minute xD). But I'll try my best to hurry up.**

**And again, huge thanks to my Beta and to everyone who makes time to read this story.**

* * *

**Chapter Eight: A New Strategy**

Gibbs went up the stairs to check on his agent. He didn't want to let him stay alone after Tony had to call Steve's wife. God knew what was going on in his head right now.

He found him sitting in the middle of the guest room, head leaning against the carpet. His body was trembling slightly but otherwise, he didn't move.

It hurt to see him like that.

Tony had always been so cheerful and barely let anything affect him. This behavior was to be expected but it was at odds with Tony's normal self. Or at least the self that he presented to the team every day.

It was freaking Gibbs out. He was balancing on unexplored ground and could only guess if what he was doing was right. But of course, he would rather die than admit to it or let anyone, let alone his friend, see it.

He took a deep breath and approached his agent carefully, not wanting to startle him. Tony hadn't noticed him yet and to scare him was the last thing he intended to do. Holding his breath, he knelt down next to him and waited, not daring to move. He could determine the exact moment when Tony acknowledged his presence. The agent's body stiffened and he pushed up a little, gazing at Gibbs. He was silent, not knowing what to anticipate.

Gibbs reached out his hand. It was an instinctive gesture. He couldn't think up anything else and this seemed perfect.

Tony stared at him in surprise. He looked so crushed and defeated. If Gibbs let the next step up to him, Tony wouldn't move in the foreseeable future. He would probably run.

He took him by the nape and drew his body closer, wanting to embrace him. Tony gasped and tried to get away but the hold on him was firm. Hands gripped Gibbs' shirt forcefully and it was only a miracle that the fabric didn't tear. The hem dug into his skin, scratching and burning, but Gibbs ignored it. He didn't plan to let go.

Adding a little more pressure, he pushed his agent flatly against him and put his arms around the unyielding body.

With Tony's every attempt to pull out, he was only gripped tighter and stronger. Gibbs didn't allow him to move an inch. He ran one hand through Tony's hair, gently combing it with his fingers.

A soft, almost inaudible sob escaped Tony's lips but the silent fighting went on. It seemed like an eternity and it still didn't look like he would stop struggling. Gibbs wondered from where he managed to get enough energy for it. Tony kept pushing and trashing even as the sobbing got louder and more desperate; he would definitely hit him if Gibbs eased his grip even a little. After the long day, he lost it.

Closing his eyes, Gibbs focused solely on the touch, hoping it would tell Tony everything that was needed without any petty words. He wasn't the touchy type and if he'd have been seeing this as a third detached party, he'd surely find this situation completely absurd. But here, from his point of view, it just felt right.

Tightening the embrace, he patiently waited till Tony would wear off and accept the offered comfort. He stopped counting the time. The only thing that his mind was wrapped around was the body in his arms, shuddering with an effort to stop the silent tears and pull away from him.

It took the next few minutes, but at last, Tony gave in. He was breathing heavily and had to be exhausted but finally, he stopped fighting and went limp. He didn't try to move away, didn't stop crying either. Still though, he stubbornly kept it quiet but Gibbs was okay with that. He was only glad that Tony calmed down and let himself being held, falling then slowly into a blessed sleep.

He sat on the ground for a long time after that, clutching Tony in his arms not wanting to release him. He kept thinking about what could have been if he'd done something differently. He knew it didn't matter now anyway, but simply couldn't stop himself.

Tony's breathing evened and he became a little heavier, slipping down. Gibbs clasped him more tightly and raised him up again. He would never let him fall.

* * *

When Tony woke up, it took him an unusual amount of time to realize where he was. With a sinking feeling, his brain started to work and in a few moments, it was throwing one memory after another at him. He remembered Gibbs holding him, waiting for him to calm down. When Tony had woken up for a few moments, Gibbs helped him to a bed, reluctantly leaving him there.

He faintly remembered how beautiful the dream was. He couldn't visualize what he'd dreamt about but the happy feeling attached to him. It had to be a calm dream. He'd been at a serene place and everything was bright and peaceful.

It had felt balanced.

Then he woke up and it was all gone. It was replaced by an embarrassment, sadness, emptiness and the most consuming hatred.

The devastating sensations stayed with him even when he got downstairs after he managed to pull himself together; at least on the surface.

They clung on to him while he and Gibbs discussed the day's plans. His boss wanted them to take a stop at the apartment so Tony could change the clothes he'd borrowed from Gibbs the night before for his own. Then they would head to work where everything should be dealt with.

Tony only nodded from time to time, letting Gibbs to decide what was necessary and had to be done. He noticed the way his boss looked at him and the narrowed eyes, burning through his skin, but chose to ignore it.

The walk to the car was spent in silence and so was the drive to the apartment. Tony was glad. He had no idea what he should say… if he should say something.

Thank God, Gibbs didn't press the issue. Although his boss seemed to struggle with the want to ask questions, he displayed an amazing ability to keep quiet.

Finally, they arrived at their destination. Tony got out from the car and went straight to the building, trying to get there as fast as was humanly possible. He couldn't help himself but to constantly look around and try to locate any potential danger that would threaten to hurt him, or Gibbs, who walked right beside him.

His boss was a picture of calmness and confidence, however, his body was tense as well, ready for any kind of action.

They reached his apartment door and only then, did Tony relax a little.

He was about to open the door when someone cried out his name enthusiastically. He, together with Gibbs, turned around abruptly. Robin was standing behind them with a smug look on her face, happy that she managed to sneak up on federal agents without them noticing her.

Tony cursed silently. He was so focused on the relief he felt, he stopped scanning his surroundings.

"Hey," he smiled, hiding his shaking hands in the pockets.

Robin paid him a smile in return and then fixed her eyes on Gibbs, contemplating him.

She frowned.

Gibbs realized he'd been glaring at her and had to look on edge. He shifted his weight and gave the girl a small smile, which softened his features. "Hi," he greeted her. "I'm Tony's friend."

She looked him up and down before deciding he was worth her effort. "Okay," she grinned. "I'm his friend, too. Robin. Are you good friends with him?"

Gibbs looked amusedly at Tony. "I hope so." He smirked and Tony couldn't help himself but feel incredibly warm inside.

They hadn't yet spoken about the last night and his breakdown and Tony hoped they'd never get to it, either. He felt too embarrassed to talk about it so he really prayed for it to stay one of those things that they knew about but didn't drag out.

However, he wanted to somehow let Gibbs know how grateful he was, how much it had helped him and that it meant everything to him to be assured that his boss cared about him.

Only he didn't know how to do that, yet. So for the time being, he kept quiet.

Gibbs was looking at him curiously and Tony realized he'd been staring. Clearing his throat, he refocused on Robin. "What're you doing here, anyway?"

She stuck her hand into a pocket in the jacket and took out a small folded paper. "Here," she handed it to him. "I was outside and some weirdo came and told me to give it to you."

Tony's eyes widened and he exchanged a horrified look with Gibbs. "What? What did he look like?" He stepped closer to her. "You talked to him? Are you- did he do something?"

Robin shrank away at his raised voice.

Calming down, he softened tone. "Sorry," he apologized.

She gave him a little forgiving smile. "He just asked about my name and if I knew you and then gave me the paper. Nothing else," she reassured him.

Tony reached for the paper. The small part of his brain that was still working objectively agreed that it was unnecessary to use any gloves. Robin had smeared the paper with her own fingerprints and he knew who the man was, anyway. And the girl could confirm it.

He unfolded the paper and perused the words quietly. Gibbs stood up right next to him and looked at the paper over Tony's shoulder. "La Dernière Séance, 16:00… I'll be waiting," he read aloud. "What's that?" He turned to him, waiting for an answer. The message sounded ridiculous to his ears.

Tony gritted his teeth and ran a hand through his hair, mussing it in the process. Chris just couldn't stop for one damn moment. "I can't believe he'd think that I… that I would go there."

"Where?"

Tony didn't pay his boss any attention, his mind racing wildly. Really, why would Chris think that he would go there? Did he take him for an idiot? Although, when Tony thought about that, maybe that was the case. Frowning, he tried to remember if he had ever given Chris an impression that he was a retard when they were kids.

"DiNozzo!" Gibbs growled impatiently.

Tony finally acknowledged his presence. "We need to get to work," he stated firmly. He was almost sure that Chris didn't think of him as an idiot, so there had to be more. Something he was missing.

Gibbs sighed. "No kiddin'."

They sent Robin straight home to her parents. She promised to be careful and call Tony if anything suspicious happened.

Gibbs gently shoved his agent toward the apartment's door and prodded him to unlock it. "Clothes first. I'm not letting you go to work in my sweater."

"But I like it," he complained. "It's nice and soft."

"But it's mine," Gibbs snapped.

Tony gave him something close to a real and genuine smile. It was the first time he relaxed a little since this all had begun.

He realized he had a big advantage in this mess.

He had Gibbs.

* * *

Gibbs nudged Tony out of the elevator and toward their desks. The whole team was already there, waiting; McGee and Kate at her desk, Abby leaning against Gibbs' and Ducky standing in the middle of the small gathering.

Gibbs heard Tony make a small sound in the back of his throat. He could tell judging by their faces that everyone knew what had happened and most importantly why it had happened. He glared at Gibbs who only sighed and grabbed him by the elbow, almost dragging him behind.

He'd called Ducky last night, when Tony was upstairs, telling him everything he'd learned. Perhaps, it wasn't fair to his agent but it had to be done. Tony needed the whole family together, so they could help him.

He placed him right next to Abby and she immediately put her hand around him, leaning her head down on his shoulder. Tony didn't protest but he remained tense and didn't lean in the touch, hypnotizing the floor with his eyes.

Gibbs looked at the clock. They had seven hours, enough time 'till 16:00 and whatever it was that would happen. He wanted Tony to tell it here, so there would be no need to repeat it for the rest of the team and they could get into action promptly if they'd have to.

"Okay," he said, scanning all participants. "Ducky told you all everything important?"

Tony winced at the question, lifting his eyes off the ground. Everyone nodded.

"He told us that this guy's after Tony 'cause he's responsible for his imprisonment. That's all," Abby evolved, seeing how uncomfortable he got.

Tony visibly relaxed. "Well, yeah. That kinda sums it up."

Gibbs laid the paper on a table before Kate and McGee. "He sent this." The two agents leaned forward and studied the words on it. Abby, not wanting to let go of Tony, turned to him. "What's that?" she asked.

"That," he stressed the word, "is by my opinion the best song of a French singer Eddy Mitchel. It's about him sitting in a cinema and watching the last movie before they'd take the building down and build a supermarket there instead. I listened to it a lot when I was a kid… and so did he."

McGee raised his head. "You mean Jenkins?"

Tony nodded.

"And the rest?" Kate asked.

Tony shuffled and finally leaned in the touch Abby was offering him. "Think he wants me to go to the old cinema that was close to our school. We used to go there almost every week… It was really great."

Gibbs frowned at that. He didn't like the idea that Tony spent so much time with a man who now wanted to hurt him. And that Tony smiled briefly every time he talked about him had pissed Gibbs off even more.

"Why do you think it's exactly about that cinema?" he asked and if he sounded a little too grumpy, he didn't care.

Tony looked around nervously. He seemed more uncomfortable than before, if that was possible. "Well, eh… before the movie begun, he would help me with, eh… French and we would talk about French stuff. It was him who got Eddy Mitchel's album for me."

Gibbs stared at his agent. It was unrelated to the case and so could be ignored, but-

"You can speak French?" Abby exclaimed incredulously.

"Sort of."

"How sort of?" She pinched him in the shoulder. "Like fluently?"

"Well," Tony squirmed. "I can watch a French movie without subtitles and I can tell someone what I want in the language, so I guess…"

Gibbs stepped forward. "Why wasn't it mentioned in your files?" He was feeling angry, but yet didn't know who at – Tony for not telling him or himself for not trying to learn more things about his agent.

And he arrogantly thought at some point that he knew everything that was here to know about DiNozzo. He hadn't realized up to now how ridiculous the thought was.

"I didn't think it was important," Tony said, though his voice held a small amount of uncertainty. "And," he added before Gibbs could interrupt him. "I stand by it. When I needed to speak in other languages on some op, I did. There's no need to write it down."

"Other- how many languages can you speak?" McGee's eyes were widened in surprise. Gibbs had noticed before that the young agent tried to surpass Tony in the aspects of wits and had always thought he was smarter and better at many things. This had to hit him hard.

"That doesn't matter, Probie," Tony retorted.

With that, Gibbs could easily argue.

"What's important is," Tony continued stubbornly, "what's Chris' problem?"

"You, obviously," Kate said.

Tony rolled his eyes. "Well, that I get, but… come on, why would he want to take things so far as to 'destroy my life' as he said? Why would he..." He stopped and took a deep breath. He couldn't afford to think about Steve now.

Shaking of Abby's hand, he stood up and began pacing. "If I were him, spending twenty years in a prison, I'd want to enjoy life, right? Why would I want to throw away the freedom I've got?" Running a hand through his hair, he looked at his silent friends. "That's just… ridiculous."

It was Ducky who answered and drew everyone's attention to him. "I would disagree, Anthony."

Tony gazed at him with angry eyes. "And why's that?" he snarled.

Everyone was taken aback by the venom that was so apparent in his voice but Ducky stood his ground and looked unfazed by the outburst.

"Sit down, Tony," Gibbs ordered him.

Tony seemed to struggle with himself but he complied and sat down next to Abby again.

Duky continued as if nothing had happened, "Imagine that you are sent to a prison at a fairly young age. You spend twenty years there and when you get out, no one gives you a new chance for life. No one pays any attention to you. Your life is over and your potential wasted. Your opportunity to live ceased to exist before it even started."

"Potential?" Tony snorted.

Ducky adjusted his glasses and moved them a little higher on the nose. "From the background I learned and the way you talk about that man, it seems to me that he is very smart."

Everyone turned to Tony. "I don't know about now but yeah, he was," he admitted hesitantly.

Ducky sighed. "It is very unfortunate that our society looks down on former prisoners and doesn't give them a second chance."

At that, Tony jumped up angrily once more. "He killed two people, Ducky. He deserves what happened to him," he spat the words out. This was getting old. He had this conversation with Steve too.

They didn't realize it wouldn't solve anything.

"Do you truly believe that?" Ducky asked and Tony wanted to shout at him or do something drastic, because, really, what was wrong with them all? Steve had said the same thing. It was like they were defending Chris. Like in the end, Tony was the bad one here.

He glanced over at the elevator. No, he'd have to wait for it to arrive. Too slow. Maybe stairs would work just fine.

Gibbs appeared before him and pushed him down beside Abby again. She grabbed his hand in hers.

"You stay here and calm down," Gibbs said firmly. "Let Ducky finish."

Tony clenched his jaw, wanting to do everything but to stay here, but remained on the spot.

"Ducky," Kate addressed the man in a pleading voice. She had a desperate expression on her face and McGee's looked alike.

Gibbs could understand them. They only knew the cheerful and composed Tony, who didn't let anything affect him. Who joked and smiled and didn't look like he would bolt anytime soon or start yelling at them all.

Even Gibbs had problems handling this emotionally unstable side of Tony. One minute he was silent, the next he was ready to smash things around. Gibbs had never dealt with it before so everything he did, like the previous night, was purely instinctual. He could only hope it was enough.

"I don't defend him, Anthony," Ducky stated firmly. "What he did is unforgivable and I grieve with you. I hope you know that." He paused and waited till Tony acknowledged it with a small nod with his head. "I am merely explaining the reasons for which you asked. To focus on your being is his way to deal with the hopeless situation, he got into... That also suggests that the man is really dangerous." With that he turned to Gibbs. "He doesn't have anything to lose."

"He can lose his life," Tony muttered.

Abby squeezed his hand.

"Don't get any stupid ideas," Gibbs growled. "You give us the address of the cinema and we'll go there with a back-up."

Tony raised his head in a silent question.

"Without you," Gibbs said. He was in no mood to argue with Tony but luckily, the younger man saw a lost fight beforehand and resigned.

"You stay here and won't set one foot out of the building until we get back. Understood?"

Now, Tony wanted to fight and argue but seeing his boss' expression, he gave in instead. "Fine."

"Good," Gibbs checked the clock. "We still have a time. I need to brief in with the director and get everything ready."

He left them just like that, feeling the awkward silence filled with tension behind his back as he retrieved up the stairs to the director's office.

* * *

"How many languages can you speak?" McGee burst out the minute Gibbs left them. Kate shot him a glare to silence him, but he didn't pay any attention to her. "Really, why didn't you tell us?"

"Leave it, Probie," Tony hissed at him. He ignored the wince with which McGee reacted at his tone of voice.

"Um, Tony?" Abby tightened her grip on him, wanting to say something.

He didn't let her. "Gotta go to the bathroom," he said curtly and shook off her hand, almost running away from them.

Fortunately, no one stopped him.

He had to think. Something felt wrong and out of place and he needed to find out what it was.

After closing the door of the restroom behind his back, he headed to the sink and turned the water on. He waited for it to get ice cold and splashed it into his face. The way the cold water burnt his skin was in some odd way very refreshing.

_The water trickled over his nose, dripping down. The cold pierced through his clothes and burnt his skin under them. He ignored it._

_The only thing he was focused on was Chris' angry face. When his friend stormed into the gym, he looked bad but now, with every passed step they made toward the unknown destination, he looked worse and worse._

_And it was freaking the hell out of Tony. He only experienced the composed and nice Chris. The person now walking silently beside him was someone totally different, like it was someone else, a stranger that exchanged his body with Chris'._

_He stopped paying attention to his surroundings and when the group stopped abruptly, he collided into Tom before him._

_Tom steadied him with his hand. "Careful," he said and then turned to Chris. "You really mean it?" he asked, motioning with his head to the left._

_Tony followed the direction and his eyes fell on a small bank subdivision._

_Chris nodded and everyone seemed fine with it; which was strange because for Tony it was everything but not fine. It was a crime, a real crime, not playing around as he'd hoped to do so previously._

_Tom grinned. "Okay."_

_With that, they set out across the street. Just like that. Some of the boys took out stocking masks and covered their faces with them._

_Tony stared at them in shock, letting his body being pushed with the flow._

_Who on earth carried a stocking mask in their pocket?_

_This was wrong and he was getting scared. He contemplated running away but it was too late. They got to the main door and stepped inside one after another._

_Then hell broke loose._

* * *

Two hours later, Tony watched as Gibbs, Kate and McGee prepared to leave. He didn't protest or whine that he couldn't go with them.

He'd realized something important in the restroom.

When Gibbs found out, he would probably kill him, but with that, Tony could deal later.

In the two hours, he'd prepared everything. He'd visited Abby and took what he needed. She was easily to be distracted, trying to somehow cheer her friend up. He felt guilty for taking advantage of her concern but had no other choice. If he told anyone, they wouldn't let him. They wouldn't believe he could handle it by himself and not get killed in the process.

He raised his head when someone stood up before him, meeting with his boss' glare. "We're going."

Tony nodded. "Okay."

Gibbs scrutinized him with his eyes. Damn him, the man could always feel when something was awry. "As I said, you stay right here, ya hear me?"

"Sure, boss."

Gibbs seemed like he didn't want to leave Tony here. He gave him one last look and finally turned to walk toward the elevator. Tony exhaled in relief.

McGee and Kate jumped up. Kate smiled sympathetically at Tony's direction and they strode after Gibbs.

Tony waited until the elevator door closed and sighed. Taking a piece of paper, he wrote his message for Gibbs on it and placed it onto his boss' desk.

It didn't take even ten minutes when his phone rang. He picked it up. "Agent DiNozzo."

"Hey, Tony." It was a day guard. "Some small girl is asking for you, says her name is Robin."

"Thanks, I'm right there," he said. Taking a deep breath, he made sure he had everything needed and all things were prepared.

He went to the elevator and rode down. Meeting with the guard, he saw no one in the hall. "Where is she?" he asked.

"Told me she'd wait outside," the guard informed him and Tony didn't hesitate and exited from the building toward the public street.

As expected, Robin wasn't there.

He stopped and wanted to look around when he felt hard metal press into his back. "Hey, Tony," a voice behind him purred.

He jumped up a little, feigning surprise. "Where's Robin?" he asked.

The voice moved a little closer. "Not here so don't bother with her. Take a walk with me."

And that he did.

* * *

Gibbs ordered the back-up team to stay behind, taking only two other agents, Kate and McGee with him.

It took over four damn hours to get here but he was sure it'd be worth. He'd never allow anyone else to be put in charge. Gibbs wanted to make sure that everything went perfectly according to their plan. Deep down, he also needed to be the one who'd cuff the bastard. It was a personal matter.

They walked around the building but didn't find any troops. The old cinema seemed deserted. Going to the door, Gibbs nodded to Kate and they knocked the door out, rushing in.

They checked every room before Gibbs admitted that there was no one but them. Something felt wrong but he couldn't pinpoint what.

Dismissing the other team, he pulled out his cellphone and dialed DiNozzo's number. It rang but Tony didn't pick up.

Now, Gibbs got worried. Ignoring the worried looks Kate and McGee were giving him, he called Abby.

"Hey, bossman. What's up?" she asked. "Did you catch the bastard?"

"He wasn't here, Abby," he said shortly, wanting to get to the main point. "Where's DiNozzo?"

Abby was quiet for a moment. "Don't know. I thought he was upstairs. Should I go and check on him?"

"Do that," Gibbs said and hung up. He started toward the car, feeling his team's presence behind his back.

He had a bad feeling about the whole situation and only hoped that Tony listened to him and stayed in the building.

They were seated in the car when Abby called back. "He's not here, Gibbs." Her voice trembled as she had to fight the tears from streaming down.

Gibbs tightened the grip on his phone.

Kate leaned closer. "What's wrong?" she asked.

He ignored her. "Did you look everywhere, Abbs?"

Abby answered in a small voice. "I didn't have to. He left you a note on the table."

Gibbs snapped the phone shut and started the car, stamping his foot on the gas pedal brutally. He heard his agents squeak at the sudden speed but that didn't make him slow down. His mind was elsewhere.

He was going to find DiNozzo, hopefully unharmed, and then he was going to kill him with his own hands.

* * *

Chris pushed him onto a backseat of a car, climbing inside after him. He had him at gunpoint the entire time, his hand unwavering. Leaning in, he started going through Tony's pockets. He took out his cellphone and threw it out of the window. "That's it?" he asked, searching some more but didn't find anything else.

"Well, I didn't anticipate you'd show in front of the NCIS building, so sorry to disappoint you but that's everything," Tony snapped. He allowed himself to take a quick glance from the gun to the driver. He was met with brown eyes, looking at him from the rear-view mirror.

"Hey, Anthony," the guy greeted him.

He puckered his brow, thinking from where he knew the man. "You don't recognize me?" The driver laughed, while starting the car and taking off. "Chris, he doesn't recognize me. I'm hurt."

Chris chuckled. "What can I say? He forgets easily." He pressed the gun against Tony's temple. "It's one of his bad habits."

Tony closed his eyes momentarily but then forced them open. He remembered from where he knew the driver's voice. "Tom?" he asked.

The guy laughed again. "Close enough, you prick."

Ricky then. "Sorry," Tony smiled slightly. "You sounded more like a girl with that squeaky voice when we were kids, so I didn't recognize you."

The gun pressed more firmly into his head. "Watch it," Chris warned.

Tony raised his hands in surrender. "Fine, fine. Sorry… Where are we going anyway?"

"That's a surprise," Chris grinned. He seemed to be holding back only due to his willpower and for that, Tony was thankful. He wanted to last until his team would find them but it all depended on Chris ability to control his emotions; and on him to behave and try not to provoke the man.

Tony sighed inaudibly. He was so screwed.


	9. Chapter 9

**Hi guys! I'm sorry it took so long to update but I was busy with school and then had to find a new Beta - which I've found in an amazing Imacwhinney :)**

**Just so you know, I didn't abandon this story and don't plan to. Thanks for your patience :)**

**Oh and, there's a moment in this chapter that deals with a knife and a... hand (you'll see what I mean). I am no medic but I said to myself, "What the hell. If Chris Burden can get himself nailed to a car without any permanent damage, I can write this part as well." :D Hope I didn't scare you - you'll understand what I meant after reading the chapter.**

**Now enjoy :)**

* * *

It was getting darker each minute the rain was about to pour down. Tony inhaled the heavy air for the last time before he was pushed through the wide metal door of an abandoned warehouse.

He rolled his eyes. That was typical. Why did every criminal in the world feel the need to take their hostages - or whoever they had with themselves - to some filthy warehouse? The floor was covered with garbage and the walls looked like even a gentle breeze would blow them away. Tony really hoped that someday would be enough fortunate and he'd end up in a five star hotel (assuming he'd live that long). Being threatened with death or punches was so much better handled with a full minibar.

"Suppose you don't have a minibar here?" he vocalized his irritation and earned himself a harsh shove between the shoulder blades. He stumbled but managed to stay on his feet. Falling down would be highly embarrassing and he'd rather die than have to look up at Chris from the ground. He had his dignity, after all… which ended a moment later when a second push, much powerful, sent him right to the cement floor. For his hands tied behind his back, he couldn't brace himself and went down face first, scraping his cheek against the hard ground.

Trying not to wince, he glared up. Chris was grinning from above him and looked very pleased. Just like a child about to unwrap his birthday present. And Tony wanted nothing more than to knock him out and beat him to death even if it meant getting killed while doing so.

But no, he couldn't do that. He had to be patient and wait for his team to locate him with the GPS locator he had. Tony was smarter than Chris and alsohad more experience in the field. He'd been (almost) one hundred percent sure that Chris wouldn't find the two devices Tony had hidden in his clothes. Still, it had been a risk and Gibbs was surely going to chew him out for jeopardizing his own life.

But that didn't matter. He could deal with angry Gibbs later.

All that mattered now was his self-control. He had to wait for his team. If he tried to do anything just a tiny bit stupid like getting badly injured, there was no doubt Steve would rise from the dead and join Gibbs only to kill Tony in a really slow and painful manner for being such an idiot.

There was a huge chance that Gibbs wouldn't ever forgive him even the trivial thing like getting purposely kidnapped. That Tony hadn't included him in the plan had to badly hurt his boss' pride. Tony didn't need to angry him further with some stupid attempt to kill Chris which was unlikely to be successful.

Oh, not that his whole being didn't yearn for the man's blood. On the contrary, he'd gladly rip him open just to sew him back and do it all over again. While talking about Steve's family and Steve himself, while recounting all the good his friend had done in his life and how a great person he'd been, he would cut off Chris' fingers one by one and make him beg for a quick death. He would thrust a knife into his body and would rotate it until it was unbearable and made Chris cry like a little baby. He'd do all those things and more and he would enjoy every second of it.

Blinking, Tony brought his mind back to focus. As much as the promises in his head sounded so very tempting, he knew he'd never try any one of them. For one, he couldn't. With his tied hands and two people around in a near distance, he'd be put back in place before he moved an inch.

And more importantly, he'd never be able to do such things no matter how much he hated Chris. He just didn't have it in him, and with Chris being his friend at one point, and an amazing support didn't help much as well.

He couldn't just kill him either, that would mean an insult to Steve's memory. It'd be too fast and for Chris more like a victory and relief than a form of punishment.

No, he had to act like a good boy and wait for Gibbs to take this bastard back to jail.

With that decided, he choked the smartass comment that was growing in his mouth and stared back at Chris, whose grin only grew bigger. It washard to say if it was because he enjoyed how docile Tony was behaving or because he was looking forward to wiping that blank expression off his face.

In his peripheral vision, he saw Ricky getting something onto a table with two chairs placed in the middle of the wide space. The other guy who he guessed had to be Tom stood beside the now closed door, leaning casually against a wall. He looked bored but his eyes were sharply scanning his surroundings, looking for anything appearing out of ordinary.

Or at least so weird to seem unusual even in a situation like this one.

He sent him a small smirk. Tom didn't react but his eyes narrowed slightly.

Tony shuffled so he got to his knees at least. Not that it was any less humiliating but it got him higher. So everyone in this room hated his guts. Perfect, he got Chris. Ricky had always been dependable on his friend so it kind of made sense in the really fucked up way that he'd follow him into this as well.

But why Tom? He'd been smart and that couldn't just vanish over the years. Chris had to lose some of his sanity to live through the prison but Tom looked well and like an ordinary and a happy person. That meant he hadn't spent any years in that place so why would he willingly go with Chris? He'd lose his freedom in this stupid game Chris had come up with. And Tony was sure of that. It was only a matter of time before Gibbs came rushing here with the team.

He tried to count the hours that remained. It would take Gibbs about four hours to New York. That's eight in total plus a time spent there.

Tony's drive had had to last for about one hour plus the time they'd been wandering through what seemed like half of the city before that.

He shut his eyes. When he'd first made the one step out of the NCIS headquarters, he knew that it'd take long for Gibbs to come after him, but still, it was too long. He hoped that at least his boss' infamous driving skills brought the team back home faster.

"So, my friend," Chris leaned down and looked at his watch. It was just for show, he seemed to know what time it was, but he had to be genuinely enjoying this. "We have about six, seven hours till your lovely team comes back. That's plenty of time we got here. What should we do with it?" He turned his attention to Ricky. "What'dya think? Any ideas?"

Ricky smiled like a shark going after an oblivious swimmer. "Oh, I have plenty ideas."

Tony looked between them. "Why waiting for my team to come back?" he asked despite not really wanting to know the answer.

Chris came closer and it took everything in Tony not to flinch away. "I've somethin' real nice prepared for ya, but I need all participants."

That didn't sound good. That didn't sound good at all.

"Care to share?" Tony wanted to lift up to his feet but Chris' hand pushed him down by the shoulder. It lingered for a moment, then caressed its way to the back of his neck and remained there.

The gentle touch gave Tony the creeps and freaked him out more than anything violent would. Chris looked like a perfect example of a psychopath, like he'd been learning from Joker himself. Maybe coming here wasn't the best idea after all.

He trembled involuntarily and of course, Chris noticed. His lips twitched in amusement as he started playing with his hair lovingly, rubbing them between his fingers. "This is gonna be so much fun," he purred and tightening his grip, he crashed Tony's head against the cement floor.

Tony lost his vision to the sounds of laughing.

* * *

Chris straightened before Anthony's head collided with the ground. He let go immediately and turned to his friends. Looking at Ricky, who seemed to be enjoying all this wholeheartedly, he couldn't resist laughing a little with him. Ricky's cheerful mood was just so contagious.

Chris realized that this was the first time since he'd got out of the prison, hell even since he'd ended there, that he felt actually relaxed and with a purpose in his life. He wanted this to never end.

Tom sighed and made his way toward Anthony's lying figure, checking his pulse. "You could have killed him," he accused Chris, examining the spot on Tony's head which had been slammed into the floor and now streamed a stick blood.

_And why the hell not?_

"Isn't that kinda the whole point in dragging him here? To kill him?" he shot at Tom, not liking the way his friend was assessing him.

Tom smirked. "Right," he drew out.

_Smug jackass. _

Chris liked him but that didn't mean he had to love the look in Tom's eyes. Like he knew something even Chris wasn't aware of.

"What the fuck's that supposed to mean?"

Tom's eyes softened and Chris wished he could hate him. "You do realize that after you kill him this is over, don't you?"

Chris jaw tightened. Of course he fucking realized that. He realized it every damn second he'd spent out of prison, in his friends' presence. He was painfully aware that when this was over, they'd each go separate ways and he would be left with his own damned self again.

Sure, Tom had offered him a help and Chris could have seen that his friend really meant it - Tom had always been looking after him when they were kids, after all - but that could never happen. Even if every person in the world wanted to help him, Chris no longer knew what to do with it. He had no purpose in his life, no goals, no… nothing. He was empty and nothing could fill the hole inside him. Tom would soon realize how broken Chris was and stop trying to help him.

There was only one way out of the misery and even while he craved to finally experience the welcoming peace of death, he feared when the time came. Nothing was holding him in this world anymore and he was still scared of ending it. Maybe, that's why he did all this. Torturing Anthony led just to two outcomes. Either he'd die in the end or some miracle would happen.

And Chris had never been the one to believe in miracles.

"Help me get him up," he said.

* * *

Tony groaned. Jesus Christ, his head felt like it wanted to explode. Even opening his eyes sounded like a too much pain so he rather kept them shut. Maybe if he stayed still, he could buy himself some more time before Gibbs located him.

"Hey Sleepyhead, open your eyes," Chris' voice whispered next to his ear. Close enough to raise all the hair on the back of his head.

So, plan A didn't work and making up a plan B was impossible with the pounding headache his brain was giving him.

He reluctantly obeyed. What greeted him turned all his insides cold and clenching. A chessboard. He was tied up to a chair and in front of him was a table with a freaking chessboard.

"You gotta be kidding me," he complained loudly, ignoring Chris' presence behind his back, breathing in his ear. "You did all this to get to play a game with me? Couldn't you just, I don't know, ask?"

Chris chuckled. "Maybe, but where'd be the fun in that?"

Tony wanted to argue but then felt a hard, cold metal pressing against his neck. No no no no.

"Ok, fine," he gulped, "you wanna play? That's fine with me. We can play."

Chris dragged the knife against his nape hard enough it drew out a blood. Tony hissed but otherwise didn't react.

"We still have so much time left," Chris breathed and trailed the knife down his arm. It was long and thin but sharp enough. Not to do too serious damage but still hurt like hell. Tony tried to pull away but both his hands were tied to the armrests and his legs were immobilized by a tight ropes as well. He looked desperately around but there was nothing that could help him. He didn't even see Ricky or Tom… not that they in particular would help him.

Chris stopped the knife resting with the sharp part against the back of his palm. Tony tried to curl his fingers but Chris grabbed his hand and laid it flatly onto the armrest again.

It set Tony in a full panic mode. "You didn't even tell me why you're doing this," he let out rapidly, hoping to distract the man who had once been his friend, his hero.

Chris looked up at him from the kneeling position he got into in front of him. "For fun I guess?" He pressed the knife harder into his skin. It started bleeding and Tony bit his cheek to prevent himself from making any noise.

"You keep telling that," he gritted through his teeth. "But that's not the main reason, is it?"

Chris stopped and narrowed his eyes. He looked dangerous but at least, he stopped trying to pierce his hand. "What'd ya mean?"

Tony smirked. He'd possibly end up regretting this but what the hell. The anger that was swelling within him the whole day finally and fully surfaced. He briefly wondered if Ducky would still defend Chris if the Scotsman were here. Most likely not and the thought satisfied him.

"What," he smiled sweetly, "you scared of functioning on your own? I get it, you know, I really get it. You're free from prison and the world is just so unfriendly to you." He had to grin at Chris' expression. It was worth the upcoming pain. "What's the matter, Chris? People don't like you? They keep giving you disgusted looks? Don't wanna have anything to do with you?" He stopped and bathed in Chris anger.

_This is for Steve, you bastard._

"I can't even imagine how hard it has to be. I don't know it, ya'know? People like me. I'm a federal agent, so they get over their heels to do anything for me. An owner of this café across the street always gives me a dessert for free." He sighed as if it was the biggest burden in the world and waited for Chris to absorb the information. It wasn't really true and the lady gave him free cakes sometimes because they simply got to be friends since he'd moved to D.C. but this was about tormenting Chris, not about telling him the plain true. "And you," he pursed his lips, "everyone hates you. That gotta be painful. It has to hurt. It has to be killing you. Tell me Chris, is it worse than prison?"

Chris remained silent.

Tony leaned slightly forward, just as much as the ropes allowed him. He didn't see Chris when he spoke up. He saw Steve lying dead on the ground. He saw himself. "Just look at you. You're broken." It got impossibly dark outside. The light coming through the few small windows stopped pouring in. "A pathetic excuse of a human being." A first raindrop dabbed onto the warehouse's roof. Another one quickly followed and soon, a steady beat of the rain filled their ears.

Chris licked his lips and lifted the knife slightly, then jabbed it into Tony's hand so the blade was buried in the wood of the chair.

"_Shit._" Tony closed his eyes tightly shut, trying to stop the yell threatening to escape out of his mouth and the tears of his eyes.

Chris grasped his neck and squeezed. "Shut the fuck up," he hissed while choking him. He pulled the blade out and thrust it into the same place again with a bigger force. He tightened his grip even more and Tony couldn't breathe. He yanked at the ropes but they didn't give out.

The rain continued pouring and the small droplets cascading onto the warehouse's roof, making loud tapping noises were almost too much to bear. It was like a fate laughed right in his face.

_Chris took out a gun and shot once to the ceiling above them, then aiming alternately at the people around and the workers of the bank, he shouted: "Get down! Everyone get down!"_

_Tony stood on his spot, unable to move, his heartbeat deafening to his ears. This was not happening. This couldn't be happening._

_He was shoved aside by one of the boys. Eric. He went straight to the guard of the bank and took a gun out of his grasp, while Chris was aiming at the poor man. Tony watched in a morbid fascination as Chris grinned at the guard and pulled the trigger. The shot was loud, way too louder than the ones Tony had ever heard in movies._

_He jumped up and covered his ears, willing the hysteria that was threatening to overtake his mind down. It wouldn't help to freak out. His body trembled and he wasn't sure if it was caused by Chris' actions or the seeping cold from the water damping his skin._

_He turned his head and looked at the guard. The man was on the floor but he was moving, holding his hip in a tight grip. He looked in so much pain but at least, he was alive and that counted for something._

_Tony tore his eyes off the man and focused on his surroundings. The people around had fell silent after the gunshot. They stared at Chris with terrified eyes and Chris seemed to enjoy the attention._

_What the hell happened to his friend to change him into this cold blooded monster?_

The pressure on his neck eased and left him gasping for the air. His vision was blurred and his head fell limply against his heaving chest.

He felt Chris lean closer. "I don't wanna kill you yet, so don't tempt me," he warned in a low voice and then was gone.

Tony closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing.

He must have dozed off – in no way had he passed out, DiNozzo's didn't do that – because when he opened his eyes again, Chris was there again.

* * *

"Back with me?" Chris asked when he saw Anthony's eyes flutter open. The water was steadily beating at the roof and calming Chris' nerves. It was weird but he always found peace in the rains.

Tony snorted. He either wasn't fazed a slight bit by his bleeding hand or did a great job in pretending not to. "You still here?"

_I have nowhere else to go!_ Chris wanted to shout but stopped himself before he could give his friend another opportunity to humiliate him any further.

"Where else should I be? All the fun's here." He smirked at the irritation in Tony's eyes. However much the man tried to look unattached or brave or venomous like the few moments ago, his eyes always gave him away.

When he'd been throwing the demeaning words at Chris, his gaze was sad, sorry even. After Chris had realized it, it was only thanks to that that he'd been able to stop himself from choking Tony to death. He was glad for it. If he'd continued, the whole plan would come in vain and that just couldn't be allowed to happen. Chris wanted to enjoy this and killing Tony wouldn't serve the purpose.

"I'm not so funny guy, believe me."

Chris huffed. "I recall differently. Remember the quizzing? You quote, I say the movie and then the other way till someone loses. That was fun."

Tony grinned. "Yeah, I always beat you up."

"Just 'cause your father didn't care about you so you had lots of free time as a kid," Chris reminded him with a satisfaction. It was nice to see the expression on Tony's face; like he'd been punched. "Now, I had a lot of free time in the prison. Think I can beat ya for a change, my friend."

"Stop that," Tony snapped.

Chris looked at him confused. "Stop what?"

"Calling me friend. I'm not your friend."

Chris smiled. "Oh, but I think of you as my friend... even after you tried to kill me."

It was Tony's turn to look surprised. "First of, I didn't try to kill you, ever, although I should have. World would be much happier without you. And second, you don't kill your friend's friends."

Chris had to fight the urge to hit Anthony. That would… what would it? He almost laughed. Why was he trying to control his emotions? That was absurd. He could do whatever the fuck he pleased.

He hit Tony's head so hard, he sent him down with the chair. Not bothering to raise him up, he stood over his form and savored the moment of his complete superiority. Then grabbing Anthony's hair, he hauled him up with the chair again.

"A brat with a gun can't possibly hit the target. Much less when it's the first time he's shooting," he hissed, while pacing around Tony.

"It's a pity I was so good shot. Wish I just killed you," his friend spat.

Chris scooted down so he got eyes level with him. "Sometimes I wish the same," he said seriously, stunning effectively Tony to silence. "Wanna hear what happened to my ear?" He couldn't believe he was actually telling him but didn't stop either. Tony just stared at him with wide eyes. "It was the first night of my personal hell in the prison," he paused. "Y**a**'know, I was a rich brat and I don't think the others liked it very much. They cornered me and… well, showed me my place." Tony winced visibly. "I spent over a month in the infirmary. Didn't get my ear back, though."

He watched the emotions displaying on Anthony's face, when the hatred won over the others. "You expect me to pity you?"

Chris frowned. He didn't know what he expected. "No," he said resolutely and stretched his limbs. "I wanna play."

When Tony didn't react, he continued. "We all go a little mad sometimes."

"Psycho," Tony blurted out before he even realized it. He grimaced but then evidently decided this was better than to spend the rest of the time with blows, hand stabbing, and choking to death. "Don't you have anything less easy?"

Chris smiled, waiting for his friend to go on.

"Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine."

Chris huffed. "Casablanca? Seriously? A chick flick movie."

"It's not!" Tony protested. "And you underestimate the charm of Ingrid Bergman."

Chris laughed and Anthony heavily shuddered. He forgot he's supposed to hate Chris, even if it was for a mere second.

Chris watched the torment in his expression. Tony would never forgive himself this little slip. The emotional torture was way better than any physical. It was so much worse that Chris ignored the fact that he, for that short time, forgot about his unfortunate life as well.

"Can we just stop this?" Tony all but pleaded.

Chris grinned. "You rather I went back to strangling you? What if I won't be able to stop myself again?"

Tony considered his options and his shoulders slumped in defeat. Chris leaned forward and said, "I'll make him an offer he can't refuse."

"That's Godfather," Tony growled, "and you've got it wrong. It's '_I'm gonna_ make him an offer he can't refuse.'"

Chris licked his lips in delight. "See? You always teach me something new."

* * *

"Sorry boss. Have to do this."

Gibbs read the paper over and over, anger boiling inside. Not only did DiNozzo disobey his direct orders, he was also so cocky he just expected them to be fine with his plan and to settle with it. Gibbs had to close his eyes to soothe the growing rage or he would want to start shooting things, people.

When he reopened them, he came face to face with his nervous subordinates. They were fidgeting and waited for him to say something. Abby was leaning against one of the tables and looked shattered. She had to blame herself for this.

"S'not your fault," Gibbs rasped, although he already knew it wouldn't help. Just as expected, Abby shook her head.

"It is my fault, Gibbs," she insisted. "He came down to me and I thought he just wanted to talk about this all." At that, Abby snorted. "Right, talk about problems… I should have known it was weird."

Gibbs sighed and looked at the paper in his hand again. It creased from the tight way he was holding it. Under the short message Tony had left was a serial number of GPS tracker and a frequency of a wire. He shook with rage again. He wasn't sure if he was more pissed off because DiNozzo didn't trust him enough to tell him the plan, or the fact that he'd lied to Gibbs. He'd been looking directly in his eyes and lied to him. He had to know that there would be nothing in the old cinema and still let them go there so he could get on with his little suicidal mission.

"We gotta track him down," he stated and looked at Abby who paled even more.

"I- I thought I told you…" she stammered and new tears started running down her face. Gibbs' heart clenched.

"What?" he barked.

"The- the tracker he took is…" She stopped for a second to pull herself together. "It's the one from the undercover op with White…it…it doesn't work."

Gibbs stared at her.

"You know that I like to, well, examine things that don't work anymore so I can play with them and rebuild them and…think Tony thought it was a new tracker 'cause I have those too, so he took it, but it's just…just the old one," she whispered.

Gibbs rubbed his eyes roughly and turned his back to the team. He looked over to the huge windows. It was dark; raining like a life depended on it.

He had to think.

"You mean that Tony trusts us to find him but we just aren't able to do that?" Kate snapped. It was the first time since their way to NCIS she spoke up. She looked really worried and her body shook with an excess energy.

Abby's head shot up. "I know it's my fault, okay? You don't have to tell me!"

McGee stepped between them with slightly raised hands, looking at Abby. "She didn't mean it like that, Abby. Of course it's not your fault."

"And who leaves broken devices in their lab, anyway?" Kate raised her voice, ignoring Tim's presence. McGee frowned at her to stop but was completely at lost as what to do. She moved closer to Abby. "You should keep it away from the functioning ones at least!"

Abby started toward her as well, looking now more angry than guilty. "I can tell which one's where and I didn't expect anyone to steal it from me," she shouted.

"Right! Because that's something Tony would never do," Kate barked sarcastically.

Abby straightened up. "How should I-"

A loud crash startled them and all three jumped up and turned to the cause. Gibbs had grabbed the first thing that made a contact with his hand and threw it against the wall of a cubicle. A silent wave rolled over the bull pen as their nearest colleagues stopped working and tried to decipher what had happened.

Gibbs took a deep breath. It had satisfied his nerves and helped to calm down his team without the need to yell at them, but it still didn't seem to be enough. He needed to smash more things. Looking at his subordinates, he saw a deep shame. He had to think and their concerned stares would not help him in any case. He had to get out.

Growling about a coffee, he left them, ignoring the looks that burnt on his back.

He entered the elevator and pushed the emergency button on the way down. He leaned his head against the cool hard metal of a wall. Closing his eyes, he tried to sort out his racing thoughts.

What he knew for sure was that Tony had ended up in a huge trouble. He'd somehow realized that the note's purpose was just to lure them out and had let himself get caught by Jenkins, taking a bug and GPS tracker and hoped they'd find him in time. He'd used himself as fucking bait. He'd trusted his team but that all backfired the moment he'd taken a broken tracker. The wire they could use only when they got to closer proximity to the place where DiNozzo had been taken which they had no idea how to find without the tracker. So for now, it was useless as well.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. It shouldn't have gone this way. Tony should have trusted him in the first place and filled him in with his stupid plan. Of course Gibbs would never agree to it but they'd have a chance to come up with something better, something that didn't involve Tony getting into a dangerous situation and out of his sight.

The big question still remained, though. How could have Jenkins known that Tony would stay here, that Gibbs wouldn't take him with them? He couldn't know how Gibbs would react in the given situation. He could have easily taken Tony to New York with them, so he would keep an eye on him.

He straightened up as a memory struck him. "_I met him this morning and Steve had told me to be more careful…"_

That Tony had told him in the elevator. Gibbs had thought back then that it'd been just that one time when Chris followed him; that he'd retreated after that. He hadn't thought yet about how the man had found in which bar the team had been or how he'd known they were in a bar in the first place.

He was such an idiot.

Setting the elevator back in motion, he waited impatiently in front of the door to release him, to let him out back to his team.

Jenkins had to be watching them the whole time. He wasn't alone and had to have someone both at the cinema and here before NCIS. At least that's what Gibbs would do. He'd want to take precautions so that every possible outcome would play in his hands.

When the elevator finally came to a halt, he stormed out and got right to his desk, shouting orders at his team on the way. "Kate, speak to the day guard. Ask if he remembers anything suspicious." The agent nodded and took off immediately. Gibbs turned to McGee. "I want you to find out if there're any cameras around the cinema we were in, and try the bar as well, although I doubt there were any. But if so, get them here ASAP. Abby," he looked at the forensic specialist, "look over the recordings from the cameras around this building both from today and yesterday."

She nodded stiffly, although seemingly glad that she got to do something, and took off as well.

Gibbs' basic instincts demanded he went to search through the city and tore down everything and everyone that came in his way. It was foolish and he knew it. Still, the anxious feelings refused to give up and his mind wouldn't shut up. He rubbed his tired eyes again and headed to the director's office to brief the man in and put out a BOLO on DiNozzo.


End file.
